Arachnidrama

The saga continues.

Yesterday, I'm standing in my underwear, in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving.

Mrs Schwartz leaves for work, then immediately returns and stands at the bottom of the stairs.

Mrs Schwartz: He's out there again, only now he has a web strung between our cars, and it's on my driver's side.

Exador: Why don't you just climb into the passenger side?

{Editor's note: My regular readers know that she won't go for this idea, because then the spider will ride with her to her work. Then he'll know where she lives AND works}

Mrs Schwartz: I can't. I'm wearing a skirt.

Exador: Well, I'm in my underwear.

Mrs Schwartz: Pleeeeeaaaasse.

So, I throw on jeans, grab a broom, and whisk away the spider.

Mrs Schwartz: Thank You. You're my Hero.

Fast forward to this morning. I am again shaving in front of the mirror, only now I don't even have the underwear.

Mrs Schwartz: I can't go out there first. Can you go out and make sure they're {Now it's plural?} not waiting for me?

Exador: Get bent. I'm naked.

Mrs Schwartz: Pleeeaaaase. I can't go. Just put a robe on.

So I put a robe on and go out front and patrol the path from my door to her car. No spiders.