Dear Live Christmas Tree,
You are beautiful. Your glow makes 5:03 am feel less 5ish. You smell really great. But what’s with all the spiders??
Fearfully,
Natasha
Dear Tiny Live spider,
Please kindly agree to the following terms and conditions:
-no running
-no raising of any legs in a threatening-ish manner
-no escaping the gentle death grip of toilet paper
-absolutely no jumping
-certainly no skin to skin contact
(Although I’m almost certain it was YOU who did not agree YESTERDAY, I believe in second chances)
Contractually,
Natasha
Dear Sweet Children,
Please do not murder each other as I spend the next 5 minutes trying to carefully catch and release this tiny (very feisty) spider with a single square of toilet paper.
Imploringly,
Mom
Dear Mother Nature,
I have returned one of yours to you.
I will be back for that toilet paper, but later. It was dark, there was no way to know if the spider had vacated.
You’re welcome,
Natasha