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I've been meaning to write about Messy Charles for a while. 

I have a thing for cellar spiders. They are so much like daddy long-legs that maybe they are them... I grew up with daddy long-legs and love them.

Before you go off into "Spider!-Smash it!"-land... remember they catch mosquitoes, flies, gnats and small cockroaches. So there.

I learned the hard way that cellar spiders are too delicate to get very attached. First was Charlotte - my first spider love - she taught me how friendly they can be. She'd always get right on me when I offered a hand... and didn't want to leave! I'd have to coax her back onto the bathroom shelf. So tame, so sweet...

Then I murdered her by accident (a terrible soap event - involuntary spider-slaughter). I cried for 3 days. Just look at the lovely creature she was!

The late Charlotte (why do we say "late"? She's not showing up again, that's how late she is)

Along came Charles. He ended up squished on the bathroom floor one day. That's when I started the name thing - so I didn't get as smitten. Next was New Charles, then Flash-Flood Charles (a shower incident; I saved him! But he was an ingrate and just stomped off. He's dead to me now. I don't cotton to ingrates). 

Now Messy Charles has been living in a corner by my tub for months. I've watched him grow. He drops shit - literally poop I imagine, though I don't know what spider crap looks like to be honest. I'm sure it's also the "remains" of his conquests.

The first time I wiped up the floor beneath him, he got highly upset! He shook his web like a drugged dancer, all freaked out. He has since relaxed & seems to grasp that this is just part of the weird monster lady's habits. 

Recently he had 2 little buddies near him, with their own webs. Whaaattt? Girlfriends? The cad.

Next day, it was back to just Messy Charles. They are rather nomadic it seems. Rolling stones. Ramblin' guys. I find it unsettling but what's a mother to do.

Last night, Messy Charles was gone! Oh no! 

But this morning I saw him on the bathroom floor carrying something - some mummified prey I assume. I put my hands down for him, and we finally had our taming moment (this is what I live for): He got on me and had a walkabout. Tickling my arm hairs, checking out my watch, acting all casual - now that's what I'm talkin' about!

So clever.

It tickles!

When he started creating a new web on me, I drew the line, & put him in his corner. He sauntered off , back to his spot, to make his messes as he is wont to do. 

Messy Charles living up to his name

All is right with the world again. At least the world in my bathroom.