Oh boy… Today is one of those days when my brain is literally churning with ideas. But I opted for this story, because I was relating it to my roommate earlier.
One Sunday, my Dad was mowing the lawn. He found this large hairy spider and called me to look at it. I said that it looked like a tarantula, but if he wanted to know what it was for sure, then I could take it to school on Monday and let my science teacher identify it. So my Dad catches it in a jar, punctures holes in the lid, and I tuck the spider away until the next morning.
I was nearing the end of Sixth grade when this happened.
The next morning, I took the jar with me to my first class, which was PE. Raw panic ensued. Most of the girls in class ran all the way up the bleachers to get away from the spider and its jar. And I was just standing there, wondering why they were all in nuclear meltdown mode. Finally, my PE teacher told me to take the spider and put it away in my school locker.
There it stayed, until my last class of the day, science class.
I took the spider to my science class. The girls were all squeamish, and the boys were like, “Cool! Awesome! Can I see it?” So, yeah. The boys played “musical jar” and the girls shivered and squirmed. The teacher told me he wasn’t taking any more donations, and I told him I just wanted to know what kind of spider it was. He said it looked like a tarantula.
I told my Dad this when I got home. We let the tarantula go, and I never saw another live tarantula since.