You know, I’m a hardworking man. It takes a lot of time and commitment to be the head spider of the family. Sure, my wife has her responsibilities such as spinning the web, and making sure the kids get to school on time, but I’m the one who has to provide food for the family. I mean, my schedule is monotonous. Every day I wake up, then go straight to work catching flies for the little guys, my thousands of children. It’s true what they say about a parents love, it’s equal for every child. I love each thousandth of my offspring that I have, even if I don’t always remember all there names.
I admit I have a very nice life, but you must try to understand how hard it is for a spider in the world’s society today. Always looked upon as a nuisance, or just some ugly little thing needing to be squashed. That’s how my uncle went, although he was asking for it, climbing in that bath tub. That’s beside the point however. Arrogant people who think they are better than us, just because they don’t know us, are my biggest pet peeve. Girls such as this little blonde brat who comes near my web every day, I think people refer to her as Little Miss Muffet.
She comes along every day, sitting nice and proper, and twirling her golden locks in the sun. Gosh, it makes me sick. People have it so easy. She sits there on her little tuffet, whatever that is, and eats her surplus of curds and whey. She eats until she’s full, and then she throws away the rest. I want to scream at her, YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO HUNT FOR YOUR FOOD EVERY MORNING! But sadly I cannot because I am a spider, and we cannot talk the human language. That’s when I thought: Body language. The only way to snap her back to reality would be to go down there myself, and try to mime it out or something. I’m pretty good at improvisation. So I mosey on down to that little tuffet and take a seat right next to her. I don’t think she realizes I’m here, arrogant little blonde brat.
Oh, I know the rules say to avoid touching a human at all costs, but desperate times come for desperate measures. I crawl onto her leg. And who would have guessed the reaction she had. Little Miss Extremely Judgmental Of Looks And Obsessed With Herself screams and flings me onto the tuffet. I see her arms flailing about as she runs into the forrest, and probably all the way home. Alright, I think she learned her lesson. She went home crying to her mother. Some people think they have it so tough. Try being a spider.