Who Needs the Great Outdoors?

This is a terribly embarrassing indictment against my housekeeping skills but I will put aside my shame to share with you the epic battle I witnessed tonight. Yes, we have called an exterminator and no, they have not come out yet.

Let us set the scene.

It is late at night. Nearing midnight. A young woman is in her powder room, doing those things that young women do in their powder rooms. She spies a tiny spider hanging out in the corner and takes a piece of tissue to swipe it and its web away and into the waste paper bin.

But wait! Something interesting is unfolding on the cold, hard floor of young woman's powder room. She crouches nearby for a better view.

A small ant has dared to wander beneath spider's web and in the blink of an eye is tied and dragged helplessly into the sticky lair. The threads of the web are so fine as to be invisible to young woman but they are strong enough to render ant, who can carry 20 times his body weight, unable to escape.

Spider moves swiftly to ant's side and her thin legs move in a graceful dance as she wraps ant in yet more invisible webbing to seal his fate. Ant struggles, frantically waves his tiny legs and antennae, and lunges his lower body towards his nemesis. Spider continues to work calmly until one lunge ends perilously close and she jumps out of the way.

Young woman cannot determine if spider has been stung or simply startled. Spider, now a bit gun shy, waits a few moments as ant perseveres in his labors, then cautiously makes her way back to her prey. Spider deftly resumes the task of securing her next meal.

Just as it looks as though all is lost for little ant he surges again with stinger aimed directly for spider. This time ant hits his target. Spider falls to the floor in a ball.

Young woman feels a bit sad. She silently urges spider to be all right.

Ant writhes pitifully in the web. Young woman feels that it is not fair for both spider and ant to die. She considers knocking down the web so ant may survive, but he is so hopelessly entangled she lacks hope that act of mercy would allow him to walk free. Young woman sighs, regretting the loss of spider and ant.

But the battle is not over. Ant has not yet resigned his will to live. He flails about, curls in a ball then stretches long. Young woman is fascinated by ant's tenacity. She begins to silently cheer for ant. You can do it!

Slowly, painfully, ant makes progress. He can now move all of his legs, though his abdomen is still tightly lashed to the indiscernible, yet powerful web. More writhing and twisting ensues.

By and by, young woman notices that spider is silently uncurling herself underneath the web, which is shaking with ant's exertion. Spider delicately alights upon her carefully crafted, invisible netting and pauses a bit away from ant, as though considering her approach.

Suddenly there is a breakthrough. Ant has miraculously almost worked his way to freedom. He dangles upside down by a thread, not quite able to reach the floor. Spider begins her delicate and agile approach.

"Look out ant! Spider is coming!" warns the young woman.

Spider works her way down the web towards ant. Ant swings below, extending fully in a futile attempt to grasp something, anything.

As spider slips nearer, closing in, young woman's heart swells with compassion for ant who has struggled so heroically.

Young woman cannot stand for ant to be captured again. She takes a breath and blows gently.

Spider is knocked back into her web. Ant drops to the floor and scurries away.

The battle is over.

Young woman congratulates the ant, warns him to not return this way and wishes spider a better outcome next time.

Young woman stretches her back and ponders what she has witnessed. Surely there is a meaningful lesson to be gleaned from the lowly scene that unfolded in the corner of the powder room. Maybe something about sin that so easily entangles?

Alas, it is too late for such contemplations tonight. Maybe tomorrow.


True story. Seriously, there I was, nearly five months pregnant, hunkered down on the bathroom floor at midnight, whooping it up for an ant.

Next time I'd rather experience such wonder at God's creation outside of my house. Like, in the woods or at the zoo maybe. Not in my bathroom. It's just not proper.