I was working at the computer when our lovely old cat came for a cuddle. I duly obliged and, after I’d encouraged him to growl at the joggers out of the window (it’s our hobby), I put him down and sent him happily on his way. As I carried on working I felt a tickling on my right boob – I know I don’t need to be so specific as to side but I want you to imagine the full horror of the situation because it was A SPIDER! CRAWLING! ON! MY! BOOB!
I don’t know what happened first: me screaming like a 5-year-old (sorry not sorry), the spider staring at me reproachfully as I launched it into the air (it hit the monitor screen and promptly disappeared which is a nightmare for another time), or my husband running up the stairs with our spider-catching kit (he just knew).
The bloody thing must have dropped off the cat, right? Because I absolutely refuse to live in a world where spiders can spontaneously appear on random parts of your body.
So, AIBU to never pick the cat up again without donning full protective gear? Or waiting till my husband’s around to give him a full body/fur check? I mean, what the hell else is he going to dump on me (the cat not my husband)?! And I can’t re-home him because then the spider wins (again, cat not hubby).