I never kill spiders because I am deeply, deeply imprinted with the belief that this is very bad luck. I don't know if it came from Charlotte's Web or Greek myth or a folktale or straight out of my preschool ass, but it's been a central arachnid truth in my brain for as long as I can remember.

So I do a lot of trapping - plastic tumbler, postcard, shaken out the window. Or I used to. The apartment in Berkeley was rather spiderful. The apartment in San Francisco, NSM, which is unfortunate, because instead we have mosquitos. Nasty little fuckers. Them, I kill, in the firm belief that it's not only not bad luck, but that every mosquito dead by my hand is another jewel in the crown I'll wear in heaven. Nasty little fuckers.

Although moths are pretty gross when you squish them.

I don't know if it came from Charlotte's Web or Greek myth or a folktale or straight out of my preschool ass, but it's been a central arachnid truth in my brain for as long as I can remember.

When I was in first or second grade, the book Be Nice to Spiders had a big impact on me.

No Lyra, it's bad luck to kill a Lady Bug. If you kill a spider, it rains.

Why are you squishing moths???

::reevaluates the bugs-must-die list::

I never kill spiders because I am deeply, deeply imprinted with the belief that this is very bad luck. I don't know if it came from Charlotte's Web or Greek myth or a folktale or straight out of my preschool ass, but it's been a central arachnid truth in my brain for as long as I can remember.

I don't want to kill them because deep down I KNOW that the spiders keep track of who kills them and who doesn't, and are planning their revenge.

I like to picture all the exponentially increasing number of descendants I've squashed at a remove or so whenever I kill a mosquito. Especially in the spring. Ditto for houseflies or (ugh) bluebottles.

Although moths are pretty gross when you squish them.

And leave dusty sploofs everywhere when the cat is playing with them. We could always tell when Thimble (our black cat) has feasted on a few because she had moth dust all over her face.

Wait, -t. Some roaches fly? In America?

Hugs New England very, very tightly.

it's bad luck to kill a Lady Bug. If you kill a spider, it rains.

That is a set of consequences I can deal with.

I KNOW that the spiders keep track of who kills them and who doesn't, and are planning their revenge.

Oh, god. In that case, I'm probably doomed from childhood, when I pulled the legs off Daddy Long Legs. (Not regularly or anything, but, um, I was small and so were they.)

(And I know DLL's aren't spiders, but it probably counts toward the same cosmic account.)