There's a tarantula in my garage.

Our washer and dryer are in the garage here which is good and bad. It's good because I don't have to look at the mountains of laundry accumulating in there. It's bad because I can't see the mountains of laundry accumulating in there.

I still do about three loads of laundry a day. But, if there are days where I am out doing errands or something and I can't get to it that day....well, then there's double the laundry for the next day. And, if I can't get to it the next day....you get the picture.

I was sorting the laundry into baskets and had just picked up the last handful when suddenly I saw it at the edge of the step.

Clearly a tarantula.

No this isn't a picture of the actual one in my garage, because I was not about to run get the camera. I did what any normal person would do. I screamed, I cried and jumped up on the washing machine.

Well, I didn't really jump up on the washing machine, or cry, but I did scream.

Then, I opened the side door to the garage and with a long piece of cardboard tried to scoot that thing out the door. It, however, didn't go out the door. It went behind my shelving unit. Behind my shelving unit!

The next day I was straightening up in our used-to-be-office-but-has-no-heat-or-air-vents-and-is-now-just-for-storage-room and what do I see?

What is this? Arachnophobia?

At least the black widow was dead. It probably saw the tarantula and died of heart failure.