Plinky.com told me I found a big spider in my bedroom and asked what would be my next move.
[it's sometimes an interesting grammatical challenge to take the prompts and rewrite them as that introductory sentence – grammar push-ups first thing in the morning!]
Well, I run around screaming like a girl
[not gender stereotyping, but more in relative voice pitch, you understand]
and waving my arms in the air, screaming "spider! SPIDER!"
Then I jump on a stool and stand quivering, screaming "Thomas! THOMAS!"
Until I realize I'm not in a cartoon, and the spider isn't an alarmingly big-eared mouse.
Then, if the spider is high up on the wall, I'll just watch it for a while. If it's lower down or on the floor, I'll go get a glass and a sheet of paper, capture it and transfer it to the plants outside.
I'll usually get pretty close to it to have a good look – some spiders are beautiful when you get up close enough to see their markings.
Now, if I were to move to a region of the world that had venomous spiders, I don't know that I'd be that understanding – no, scratch that, I probably would.
Na, if it were a black widow, I'd probably stomp on it.