So I was sitting in the bathroom...handling my #2 business...humming to myself....just as happy as happy could be.
I plopped, smiled and THAT'S when it happened. I moved my foot so that I could wipe and in slow motion the foot came up and out crawled a spider.
Y'all, when I say I have never screamed like that. It was a blood curdling, deep manly yet still girly scream that caused Jersey to book it to the bathroom. I could hear his heavy feet flopping so I got up quick, did a really fast wipe-a-roo (all while still screaming) and pointed towards the spider.
You have to hold the handle of the toilet down for an insane amount of time in order to properly flush so I'm holding the handle, Jersey's trying to get around me and I'm hoping he can't smell the gift I just left for the porcelain god. He did though. He didn't comment until the spider was down...which was nice of him.
It was a traumatic, stressful and stinky situation.
The point of this story: I shall never be able to poop in there comfortably EVER AGAIN.