The spider was watching me.

Every single time I sat down on the toilet, it was just there. By the time I could get up to squish it and forget about it, it had disappeared. I’d blink and it was just gone. But every time I started to pee, it watched from the corner.

It began to bother me after a week or two. Why was this spider obsessed with my lavatory habits? Where did it go, and for that matter, where did it come from? There were no cracks or holes in the wall. One day I decided I’d had enough; this stalking spider would no longer spy on my potty patterns.

I had a master plan. I would lure the spider into a false sense of security by sitting on the toilet, hiding the tissue I would squash the spider with. It would think it had caught me with my pants down, but in reality, I was ready to attack.

The spider was on the wall, in prime ambush position. I leaped from the toilet, trying not to trip over my grounded pants. My hand made contact with the wall-

-and there were no spider guts on my tissue.