There is a small spider hanging from the ceiling of our hallway, just outside the kitchen. It’s very light colored, practically invisible. I almost walked into it which, for me, is a jump-up-and-down-screaming-and-hitting-myself-take-5-showers-curl-up-in-a-fetal-position-and-whimper scenario. I just don’t like the little bastards. Still, I wish the spider no harm. That little thing never did one bad thing to me besides exist.
I can’t stop thinking about the spider now because BigB is about to get up, come downstairs, retrieve the newspaper from the front step, and walk through that doorway. It raises sort of an interesting ethical dilemma. Do I:
a. Overcome my fear enough to relocate the spider to a less trafficked area knowing that if BigB sees it he will squash it or walk right through it unknowingly becoming a spider-mobile?
b. Warn BigB before he walks into the spider knowing he will then gleefully murder an innocent spider who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and then chase me around the house with the remains in a crinkled swath of toilet paper?
c. Leave BigB and the spider to their fates and just stay out of it?
I chose C.
A involves me overcoming my fear. I’m not ready for that. B involves possibly being chased by spider guts or hugged by a spider-mobile transfer system. No thank you.
I think with C we can all win. BigB won’t even notice the spider hitching a ride in the curve of his ear. The spider will be transported to a new more appropriate home, possibly inside of BigB’s ear, but hopefully not, and I can stop avoiding that hallway. Although I’ll be avoiding BigB for the time being.