Me: Michael! Can you come down here? PLEASE?!
Michael: (coming down the stairs) What is it?
Me: (pointing towards very small brown spider on bathroom wall) Can you please take care of it? I think it’s a brown recluse and it will bite me and I’ll die.
Me: I don’t want to die.
Michael: I don’t want you to die.
Michael: I thought brown recluses were big.
Me: I though they were small. Very small. If it bites me my flesh will turn all necrotic and rot off. (hands Michael a Dixie cup)
Michael: (catches spider in cup against wall)
(both stare at cup held up against wall)
Michael: I don’t have a piece of paper or anything to trap it in the cup.
Michelle: (runs and fetches a piece of cardboard)
Michelle: Thank you.

Why did he have to catch the spider? Why that would be my fault! I can’t stand for things to be killed, so the few insects and arachnids that escape the attention of the cats must be caught and released outside.