The spider in the sock drawer

Something's lurking in my sock drawer. A flicker of movement at the edge of my vision drew my attention to the spider as it skittered across the chest of drawers. I watched it from across the room, pondering my next move. I should make it clear that I don't dislike spiders, despite having a slight phobia of them. Rather I dislike their proximity. For the most part I'm more than happy to observe them from a distance, although I'll confess that my mood falters when that distance is easily closed - particularly when it can be closed by the spider. My preferred option is to cover the anomalous arachnid with a glass and then throw the spider out the window (and retrieve the glass later), however since I didn't have a glass or other suitably concave vessel to have I hesitated. My mistake. The spider darted down the side of the chest of drawers... and then vanished through a crevice in to the drawer where my socks live. It was a remarkably small gap for such a large spider, but alas that proved no deterrent.

I waited for a few minutes, my eyes fixed up the drawer, waiting for the creature to emerge. It didn't. It still hasn't. Since then I've been unable to prevent myself from entertaining macabre fantasies of a mother spider laying her eggs in there, and having a thousand spiderlings stream out when I next reach for a pair of socks.

I'm finding the prospect of going barefoot for the next few days increasingly attractive...