One day I was watching my grandfather paint their house when a Daddy Long Legs crawled out from under the siding and Granddad just painted over it without flinching. He was my hero.
Today I tolerate spiders when they are in their natural habitat, outside. However, when one wanders into MY natural habitat, my home, that is another story. I no longer scream until someone comes but I often will loudly alert the Cottage Master that he is needed for spider patrol.
This morning I was in the house alone. A spider and I had the misfortune of coming eye to eye. I was at a disadvantage since I had just emerged from my shower. I couldn’t just let the thing run around on MY floor but I couldn’t run through the house in my natural state to get the spider spray, besides he might be gone by the time I got back. Stepping on it was out of the question, and I had nothing near by to squish it with. I grabbed what was the only tool at my disposal and sprayed and sprayed and sprayed.
Finally the thing stopped moving. I suspect that I didn’t actually kill it with the spray but merely glued its legs together so it couldn’t move any more. Either way it no longer was running around my floor unpredictably.