does he scuttle?

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I love the word scuttle. But that is just a slice of random nothingness about me. So, I married a man who is petrified of spiders. My Husband married a woman who is terrified of spiders. You can imagine the conundrum when we first lived together and spied a spider. One of us had to buckle up and become a Man, and that one was none other than yours truly. I am the spider remover of the house. I am still very wary of spiders. Little tiny ones are cute. The variety with teeny-tiny bodies and long skinny legs are harmless. Big furry garage-living ones are nice to look at, but gruesomely menacing, although I imagine a conversation with one would reveal a happily solitary creature who just wants to be loved. Garden ones are pretty and photographic. But the large black house spiders are my enemy. Much like the big furry garage-living spider, they look gruesomely menacing. Unlike the big furry garage-living ones, they would - I imagine - make terrible conversationalists. One of these vile creatures was on the wall in my dressing-room this morning. I looked at him. He looked at me. I silently thanked him for not crawling out of my bra cup or my shoes, and for not setting up home in my cardigan, like his great-great-grandaddy did a few years ago. I'm rather proud of myself now for my lack of scream and my calm manner. I'm all grow'd up!