Dear Shower Spider,
I think we've met before, you and I. I've seen you around and I'd like you to note that on none of these occasions have I ever squashed you. I've even mopped around you. This is because I assume your continued presence in my bathroom means there are other bugs coming in there and that your continued survival means that you are killing them. For which I thank you. I'm happy to continue this little symbiotic relationship you and I have going, all clownfish and anemone-like. In exchange for your exterminating services, I'll continue to provide you with free rent and security. I just have a couple of small requests:
I can't exactly ask you not to be in the shower when I'm using it because I don't have a regular shower time and even if I did, assume you likely can't tell time and/or do not have a timepiece available. I have certainly not provided one in your bathroom home. However, I'd appreciate it if, once I've spotted you, you could stay where I can clearly see you until I exit the shower. I will do the same.
I'd appreciate it if you could try to not get any bigger. I realize that it may be unfair of me to ask that of you and believe me, I understand it's not easy. I'm trying not to get any bigger myself and am not having a lot of success. It's just that you seem to have grown since I first saw you and are now pretty well pushing the bounds of the size of spider I'm comfortable sharing my bathroom with. This bathroom is just the right size for one person, but not large enough for two people or one person and a spider much bigger than you currently are.
Nothing in the preceding paragraph should be understood as an invitation to avail yourself of the more spacious bedroom just outside the bathroom. If I see you in the bedroom, I can only assume you're going to come and bite me while I sleep. I cannot guarantee your safety in the bedroom. By which I mean that if I see you in there, I can't guarantee that I won't squash you.
That's pretty much it. Again, I thank you for your bug-killing services and hope we'll have a long and mutually respectful partnership, following these simple guidelines. Happy hunting!
I had no such agreement (no agreement whatsoever, in fact) with the unidentified bug that somehow ended up on my shoulder and then skittered across my kitchen floor when I flicked it off. I grabbed the top book from our kitchen cookbook shelf and threw it. Death by chocolate. Pure Chocolate.