Battling Boris

Okay, here's the story from my perspective.  I'm actually pretty thankful for it.

I'd gone to bed around 10, determined to get a full night's sleep ahead of today's early-morning meeting.  Almost right away I realized that "I don't have to get up that early."  I turned over to reset the alarm clock, then noticed that the alarm wasn't even turned on, as I'd awakened before it went off (AGAIN) on Friday morning and shut it off so it wouldn't wake Teri too early.  After setting it for my target wake-up time this morning, I struggled to find a comfortable position in which to fall asleep.  Sometimes lying on my stomach helps me relax more; I don't like to do that for too long as having my arms stretched out over my head like that makes my shoulders sore after a while.  I tried it, though, figuring I'd roll over in a few minutes but soon falling soundly asleep.

I thought I heard and felt Col. Potter - our shih-poo - jump up onto the bed with me, but only unconsciously.  It didn't stir me to roll over, as I needed to by this point.  I eventually became conscious of a larger body than his against me, and of what seemed like sobbing there, and groggily came to the realization that Teri was lying on the covers with her head on my back.  My first emotional response was fear that perhaps something had happened to her dad, but it eventually cut through my fog that she'd been frightened by a spider in the blanket she'd started to cover up with downstairs.  Relieved, and rather surprisingly not annoyed by this arachnophobic interruption of my sleep, I rolled over to allow my shoulders to recover from their prolonged stretch, and assured Teri that it would be okay.  After allowing myself a couple minutes to become more fully alert, I got up and started hunting around for my glasses, which I knew I'd need to find any spider on the dark family room carpeting.  Finding them on the dining room table, I returned to the bedroom for a sandal, something with enough weight to kill a spider the size Teri was describing, but also easily manipulable in case the thing started to scurry away.  Finally well armed against the threatening intruder, I ventured down the stairs, while Teri anxiously sat on them to observe the proceedings, probably to make sure I really took care of the problem.

I saw the spider right away, somewhat surprised it was still on the blanket, black and rather large, just as Teri had indicated.  I wondered why it hadn't sought shelter within the folds of the blanket, which I started to adjust so as to have a clearer shot at it the little beast.  It still didn't move and, figuring it must somehow be dead, that perhaps Teri had killed it in frantically throwing down the blanket, I looked more closely.  It was then that I realized we'd both been duped by a quite arachnid-appearing wad of thread.  I hugged my much-chagrined bride, who to her credit soon recognized the humor of the episode, and after giving myself a few minutes to relax, returned to the restful warmth of my bed for the night.