This morning I decided that I need to take off my glasses before I get anywhere near the shower, especially at Toad Hall.  Not only do I have to avoid a rather large mirror, it’s emotionally exhausting trying to save the little baby daddy long legs spiders that spin their first webs on the other side of the shower curtain.  I’m a little choked up by the whole thing.  As you can see from the picture at the left, momma is teaching her little ones about just how nice the shower stall is to practice their spinning.  What she’s not telling them is that most of them will die on the killing floor of our bathtub.  This is why I need not wear my glasses before entering the bathroom.  If I can’t see them, I don’t have to save them.

The inconvenient truth about daddy long legs is that they’re not delicate.  They’re perfect hunting machines. The other night I heard a buzzing in the bathroom and when I followed the sound to its source, it was a rather large, late-summer fly, slow and dumb.  It had the misfortune of getting itself stuck in a baby daddy long legs’ web.  Just leave, I thought, big stupid fly.  When it didn’t I intervened and flicked the thing onto the counter top where it promptly died. I suppose once it had a look at me, it thought that little spider web wasn’t such a bad place after all.

Why would I try to save a fly?  Flies are bad; spiders are good.