I'd advise against reading this before bed.
No? Still here? Okay, fine. But don't say you weren't warned.
So the hole. It has recently been vacated thanks to the efforts of two young boys armed with nothing but poison and a rock. And when I say "poison" I mean the stuff upon which I used to place Mr. Yuk stickers. I'm glad to know, based upon the concoction they devised, that I adequately frightened them of toxic products as toddlers. It would be nice if the rest of the world operated on such a level: "Never mind dirty bombs, we have soap!"
The boys took it upon themselves to rid the yard of whatever menace lurked beneath the surface one day while I was not home, and Husband thought they were out there weeding (as directed.) Instead they mixed, in a large cup, the following ingredients that, when combined, apparently make a lethal concoction. Because I am concerned about this recipe getting into the wrong hands (I'm looking at you, Al Quaeda) I will not include the measurements of each component, although I am sure it was carefully measured down to the gram. Here it is: bleach, Lysol, soap, hydrogen peroxide, and the pièce de résistance: Coca Cola. My love of Coke is unquestionable; I'm not sure if I've frightened them from drinking it or just drinking mine - nevertheless, they included it in their batch of all things deadly. They poured the toxin down into the hole and covered it with a large rock. And waited.
So early one morning over the weekend I went outside and noticed a large rock on top of the hole.
Not knowing the poison plan, I assumed Son 1 and Son 2 had placed the rock in an attempt to block the creature from escaping out its front door...in my mind the lair had numerous doors and their efforts were futile, but I had no better strategy, so who am I to judge? Curiosity got the best of me (read: it was early and my judgment was impaired due to lack of coffee) and with the tip of my shoe (running shoes...close-toed) I nudged the rock over.
You know that shrieking sound you hear in movies and on TV that's like high-pitched violins? Like "shriek! shriek! shriek!" I literally heard that in my head. At the entrance to the hole was the creature, bottom side up, as if he (yes, it has a gender now) was going to press the rock off the top of the hole with his legs, like a big hunk of gym equipment. His mouth was wide open - and like his strength, disproportionately large compared to his size. Here's what I saw:
I can't make it larger because it gets grainy, so for some clarity as to what I looked at, here is another photo, bottom-side up, which clearly shows the mouth-fang horror.
It's mouth is like HALF of its underside...its fangs (yes, FANGS) are as big as its feet. And before you get the idea that I took these pictures within less than ten minutes of flipping the rock over, let me tell you that I jumped backward, did a jog-in-place, hands-to-my-face, squealing-like-a-two-year-old dance for about 30 seconds. Then I ran inside and got my camera - can I tell you I was sweating and shaking? I found a long stick and gently nudged the spider (from a safe distance) to see if he was really actually dead. He was. So I took the first picture. Then I went into the garage and got a pair of work gloves - you know, the heavy leather ones - and a shovel. High on adrenaline and eager to get rid of the body (before his buddies showed up to avenge him) I scooped up the body and took the picture above. Then I walked over to the edge of the woods/creek and LAUNCHED him to his final resting place.
Because I've seen Bugs Bunny, I know that flooding is an effective way to ruin a creature's hole, so I put the hose to it. I imagined his sofa and kitchen table coming out of another hole somewhere else - and that was fine with me. And because I've seen the Road Runner, I know that holes can be portable, so I used the shovel to ruin the hole and prevent another spider from coming along and moving the hole to my backyard. Safety first.
So, who wants to come visit?