Husband and I were in the car, me driving.  I had just helped him move his dinghy and been pushed into a bush; no biggie, right?  We were on our way to a friend’s place via a busy road with no lanes in which to pullover.  I felt something delicately feather my ear so I went to move my hair, which I remembered was in a bun and was not touching my ear.  OMG!  The ‘hair’ that I’d tried to brush away ran on eight furry feet, all the way across my forehead!  Shit, shit!  I flicked at my head to remove the massive huntsman, all whilst trying not to swerve out of my lane or crash into a telegraph pole.  One of my flicks brought success and he flew into the passenger side near my husband’s legs, which were now kicking in a mad frenzy.

Both of us freaked out until we arrived at our destination, my husband, all the while, watching the floor of the car, where the spider had disappeared.  We didn’t find spidey again, well not that day anyway.

Night time.  Driving home by myself.  What do I see, but the same forehead-stomping spider from the week before, sitting in the middle of my windscreen, inside the car.  Ok, calm, poise, revenge.  I spotted a tissue box on the passenger seat.  I deftly picked it up, and without changing speed or going out of my lane, squashed my hairy nemesis with a box full of silky soft tissues.  I have learnt that I am calm in an emergency and skilled with a tissue box.  To all you arachnid admirers, I will non-regretfully acknowledge that yes, a spider was harmed during the making of this story.

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