Whistling Old TV Tunes Attract Spiders

Whistling Old TV Tunes Attract Spiders,....No really!

Immediately she jolted upright in bed. All around her was a cool blackness. Now quiet. The screaming had ended. She reached across the bed for her husband. Bob was gone. His side of the bed was cool to the touch.
EEEEEEEEEKKKKEEEE!! Somewhere an 8yr. old girl (sounded like she was 8) was in great danger.
"Bob! Bob!" She whispered,...she shouted into the darkness.
"Here down the hall in the bathroom!........Huge black spider on the shower curtain!"
"Well get dressed! Hurry! I heard a little girl screaming close by."
"Ahhhh, that was probably me. SPIDER!"

That's my wife's account of the events that lead to that life threatening night.
It wasn't quite like that. It was more of a Tarzan scream is how I emptied my lungs for help. She's wrong about my little girl scream. It's a Tarzan scream, and Tarzan screams scare spiders. And she'd better get use to it as its this time of year spiders move into our homes to try to scare us out of them.
They start by building their webs close to the house across sidewalks and in front of doorways. Invisible webs, unseen till you're wearing it across your face.
Your fear begins!
If you're lucky and happen to see a web before you're wearing it be sure to use the longest pointiest stick you or your neighbor have to rip it down! With garden hose and stick in hand, pant legs and sleeves taped and with any kind of hat rip and tear at this nightmare. It's anorexic cotton candy consistency, but with far fewer calories (and here you're assuming by its taste) are soon and thankfully wrapped around the stick. But the spider always gets away! It's some sort of Ninja thing. Hey, if they can spit thread from their bum stronger than steel,.....they can disappear! Scary right?
They next send into our homes their smaller spider friends as spies. They test to see how much of a Nancy (or other feminine name to mock your male macho-ness) they're working with.
I find one in the kitchen on the rim of my mug. I scream (like Tarzan) and run for the bug spray. I blast the whole can on it, but from a different room through the crack of a secure door.
Start to get dizzy from all the spray.....Must not fall.....Spiders will put icky low calorie webs across my face.....Must lie down in bathtub.....Spiders hate bathtubs...
Spiders are doing high-fours downstairs behind the furnace. They're going to have a warm winter! The folklore about this wuss was all true.
Now it's time for the big boys to play in the shadows. Just at its edges. Cause questions and doubts. Create panic!
"What was that?! Did you see that!? Was that something? I saw something! Go look! I'm not gonna go look! You look! My big boy pants are in the wash. Hey! A monster spider was just in the next room about to jump in my mouth off my coffee mug! They needed cleaning!"
Fear escalates.
Now two of the bigger spiders are sent out. But not together,...separately. You'll enter a dark room and turn on the lights, and whatever plans they were scheming, they stop. You move,...they move. You scream, like maybe Tarzan, and run to another room. They follow. You again emit high pitched, maybe girly, sounds as you cartoonishly try to run. But your legs get you nowhere! Your arms outstretched as your feet spin as if you were riding a stationary bike. He's gaining on you! Again you scream (as manly as you can), but now seeking help from anyone! But you get your wife. She runs downstairs thinking you've cut off you hand in the table-saw by the volume and pitch of this new found octave. She arrives to find you clung to the side of the doorjamb a foot and a half off the floor. She kills the spider with your Tiger Woods #5 iron. You climb off the wall and recommend your Sears #3 wood next time and make a mental note to buy a new #5 iron.
Fear is now at levels unknown to man.
Later that night after several hours of horizontal unrest (cause you know the other one's out there) with a full bladder you exit the bed as one would leave a boat to the dock. Cautiously. Somewhat fearful of what's between bed and floor. You gingerly step, almost dance your way down the hall to the bathroom. Destination arrived you take the only seat in the room. You calm your fears by whistling the Andy of Mayberry tune. Unbeknownst to you, whistling attracts the other spider. Spiders love whistling! Especially old TV tunes. He now reveals himself from a fold in the yellow rubber ducky shower curtain two feet from your face. He's big, black and hairy and you're thankful you saw him while sitting on the toilet. Only for the reason that if you had your big boy pants on,...they'd be dirty again. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. The Lofstroms German Shepard down the street answers back. Firmly grabbing the edges of the toilet seat, hyperventilating , while trying to control your urge to flee you manage to eek out a more audible cry for assistance. This comes in the form of 13 Es and four Ks all jumbled together in perhaps, some would say, a very girlish way.
Bob! Bob! Responds the wife,...and then something about a small girl screaming for help. This scares the black menacing eight legged arachnid away! After that #5 iron thing spiders are afraid of my wife.
So after that we save the little girl that had fallen down the well. Yadie yadie yadie, I'm a hero! Seems her screams and mine combined together awoke the community and made them venture out to see just what was going on.
Well,...that's my story. So who to believe if it was a Tarzan yell or a little girl scream? Do you want to believe some #5 iron wielding spider killer or a true Canadian hero?
Spiders are afraid of heroes........right?

Bob Niles.