Dear Spider,

First off kudos.  You managed a trick that your little ant friends (aka little web snacks) couldn’t master.  You got in, bit a few times and scuttled off without being seen or smushed.  Bravo.  Victory. My arm puffed up, became a little discolored, but let’s be honest it was ultimately just a minor nuisance. That brings me to my letter.

Secondly, you’re freaky and weird.  Don’t take it personally.  You’ve got too many legs and more eyeballs than any trustworthy arachnid needs.  Still, I overlooked your weirdness because you nibbled on things I dislike like the aforementioned ants and mosquitoes.  Maybe I was a bit naive, but I really thought this meant we had an unwritten/unspoken  agreement.  You would stick to your corner of the house that can’t be reached with a broom and I would get everything else.  Then you went and declared war on my arm with a pre-dawn sneak assault.

Let me give you some advice.  You will lose.  Ok, that’s not advice. I tricked you there, because even with all those eyes you can’t read and well, it’s still not advice. Maybe it’s that I don’t want the spider living under my roof (aka you) to be the Napolean of your kind by metaphorically invading during Winter.  That’s embarrassing.  What would the neighbors think? So, here it goes:

My advice is to become an expert in the following spider knowledge areas:

• The enemy

• Your venom

  • Content

  • Volume

  • Amount Necessary to down a full grown human

• When to ask for reinforcements

• Your lifespan vs. level of effort to wrap and devour a whole human

• Armor: The Pinch/Broom Factor

Some recommended side reading:

• Evolution and How it Skipped Me: Thousands of Years with No Real Progress

• We’ve Got the Numbers and Ummm… Did I Mention the Numbers?

• Still Squishy After All of These Years

Now little buddy, it’s time for me to break some bad news.  Your cushy corner life of ant eating is over.  That’s right. No more ants.  No more web-sweet-web.  I’m coming for you and your 100’s of children.  Welcome to arachnid genocide.

Beth