A pale yellow spider, about an inch long and very meaty, was dancing and swaying, weaving and bobbing as it mocked me. "Watch me!" It seemed to say, "watch me as I put my spidery legs really close to the bristles of your toothbrush.... I eat bugs!!! YUM!!!"
I'm stuck - mid-pee. I can't move. I'm not wearing shoes to throw and since my aim is only as good as myopic vision is, I wouldn't have landed my foe anyway.
I formulate a plan on the fly, grabbed some two-ply, fluffed it across the necessary region with one hand, flushed, and grabbed a squirt bottle with the other one.
There, in my bathroom, with my lime-green Kmart sweatpant pooled around my pink feet, my "I love you!" post-Valentine-day mark-down panties nestled in the floor, I sprayed the spider with fifteen short bursts of water.
Which it laughed off in tiny non-audible spidey laughs and crawled behind the freakin' mirror. I had missed.
And now must sleep with one eye open in fear of retaliation...
Until we meet again, Spidey, until we meet again....