Almost immediately after moving into our apartment in the desert, we discovered that the management had failed to mention something very, very important. The apartment was plagued with spiders. Of course I marched my happy self over to the office to have something done. The management acted like this was a complete shock to them, had no clue what to do about it, and eventually thought I was exaggerating.
At first, John and I both screamed like little girls, and used shoes, books, or whatever was within reach to kill the horrid things immediately, but then we started to photograph them before we killed them to prove to the management that something had to be done.
This one was in our bathroom around 2 a.m. It ended up being smashed, crushed, and flushed. I don’t think I slept at all the rest of the night after that.
How would you like to see this crawling out of your bedsheets only a few short hours after you had gotten up?
This one I killed in the nursery. Baby Boy had not been born yet, but I was furious that the management hadn’t done much to eradicate the monsters. This was war.
The management hired a company to come spray the exterior and interior of our apartment. This improved things a bit, and we were on a list to have our apartment sprayed with the super toxic stuff which I was not excited about. The super toxic stuff was supposed to have been sprayed in July. The guy shows up at the door 1 week before Baby Boy was born, and informs me that I have to leave the apartment immediately if I want it sprayed, and I can’t come home for 8 hours or longer to be safe. That was ridiculous and not going to work for me.
The weather starts to cool off and the spiders are no longer as bad. Instead of killing them daily, it’s down to a few a month. Then in December, they start to increase again.
One evening during dinner, John calmly tells me there is a spider on the wall behind me. Baby Boy was sitting in his Bumbo on the table. Without batting an eyelash, I turn around and with an open palm, kill it bare-handed. I turned back around and told John nonchalantly, “Not anymore.” Quite the change from yelling and using shoes.
As I was cooking dinner a few nights later, a giant spider crawls out from under the stove. I try to kill it but miss, and it seizes the opportunity to scurry back under the stove. My sweet 4 month old is playing on the floor just a few feet away in the living room. That spider had to die.
I called John to see where he’s at. He was 5 mintes away. I started by removing the drawer from under the stove, gathering flashlights, and the swiffer mop. By the time John came in the door, I was ready for war. Between the two of us, it took about 15 minutes to find and kill it.
The next morning I marched back over to the main office wearing my sweet baby in the Baby Bjorn and let the manager know exactly what was on my mind. Perhaps it was my convincing words or the adorable baby staring at her, but within hours, maintenance was over at our apartment looking for any openings. They found a huge gap in the wall behind the stove, gaps in the windows and doors, and a gap in the fireplace. It took them maybe 1 hour to seal up our apartment.
After they did that, we haven’t had a problem. We can make it 4 more days before we head to Seattle.