Boris the Spider

Imagine that it's quite late at night. You are laying in bed, lights out, doing some last things on your computer before finally shutting it off for the night. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see a spot on your headboard (well, technically backrest since you sleep on a pull out sofa bed) move in a most curious manner. You turn to see it properly, and, lo and behold, there is a spider mere centimeters away from where your head is.

What do you do? Freaking out won't do any good- you'd just end up with six quite agitated people rushing down to see why you're screaming bloody murder. Can't squish it with a shoe- the sofa is white and that'd would bring only an ugly spider-entrails blob and a heap of disappointed complaints. Can't take it outside this time of night- the host parents wouldn't be too pleased with an open door at that hour. You keep a somewhat cool mind and look around the for options. Don't wander too far or let your eyes leave Shelob's spawn for too long. Don't want the thing running away, maybe into your sheets, only to reappear once you're finally asleep, if you can manage to sleep in your bed after such an encounter. Your eyes rest on a plastic box that, until a few days ago, held some Q-tips. Bingo! You place the box over Aragog's little friend and watch as he crawls into it, no need for a piece of paper to help him out. Congratulations! You now have a new house pet. And since you love rock, you know that the Who wrote a song about a similar occurrence, except with a rather more violent ending. But, since you are a kind soul, you just incarcerate Boris and show him off to the kids the next day. And you hope and pray Boris didn't have a girlfriend.

P.S. Sorry for all my nerdy references to really large spiders from fictional works. Boris isn't even big. He's rather average, if you ask me. And he's about as entertaining as a pet fuzzy. Except with fangs and legs.