Warm water ran down my back as I lathered shampoo through my hair. My eyes were closed as I scrubbed. I leaned back into the stream of warm water to rinse my hair, opened my eyes, and heard a hideous scream escape my own throat. A short, sharp, scream of fright, the kind Mom used to make. The kind I try so hard to avoid making. There, just a few inches from my head was a skinny, long legged spider.
I couldn't help but think of Mercer Mayer's "Little Critter" and his constant spider companion. I wondered if Mrs. Critter ever screamed at the unexpected company.