The screams were coming from our bathroom.

They were loud. They were shrill. They were coming from me. My husband burst into the bathroom. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied, but I pointed into our bathtub.

“I just want to take a bath, but it is so big. I cannot move it.” I continued to point into the bathtub. I continued to point at the giant spider inside of it.

Before you become too alarmed, please know I loved the spider inside of the bathtub. It was a daddy long legs. It is a variety of spider that will kill other pests in your home. They do not have sharp enough fangs to penetrate human skin (this theory has never been proven, but I choose to believe it).

Growing up, our family kept them all over the house. Now, we keep them all over the house. I assume my husband thinks I am crazy, but he humors me with the daddy long legs’ special treatment. We never kill them. But this one was intimidating. And it stood between me and the relaxing bath I had been looking forward to all night.

I had tried to get it to crawl onto a piece of paper, but quickly realized that that would not work. The spider was the size of half of the paper. One quick move and it would be on my hand. I loved it, but there is no way I could handle that situation. I had begun screaming and mewling when that debacle had almost occurred.

My daughter looked matter-of-factly into the tub. “Well, mom…you let it get too big, ” she deadpanned. I was looking alarmingly at the spider contemplating my next move. When my husband took the situation in hand. I mean, he took the situation in hand…

My husband quickly scooped the spider into his hands and began the transportation to the nearest safe zone. This being the top of our entertainment center. But it began to dangle. The children began squealing. My husband asked me to get the camera. I stood frozen in the doorway. And just like that, the spider vanished. We searched everywhere. We could not find it.

The children ran away screaming.

My husband began to complain that he felt itchy. It continued into the night.

Maybe it went to join the other spiders we have transferred. Maybe there is a club of sorts in the walls discussing our antics. Maybe my children will have many stories to tell…

If you come to our house, do not be alarmed. They can not hurt you. They might tickle. They might crawl. There might be some undignified screaming coming from your hostess…

Welcome to our crazy, fun house.

Do you feel itchy yet?