My friend, Charlie.

I bumped into my old friend Charlie the other day. By "bumped into" I mean that, in usual Charlie fashion, he jumped out of nowhere and scared the Hell out of me. Charlie and I are not really close friends. He is more of an annoying acquaintance, who makes an occasional appearance. Truthfully, I thought he had died some time ago. The last time I saw him, he was in my windowsill, making a web and looking for bugs. Yes, Charlie is a common household Wolf Spider.
The last time I had seen Charlie, he was rather small (about the size of a jumping spider) and had taken up residence in my windowsill. I didn't mind Charlie being there. He was welcome to live in between the window pane and the screen, so long as he didn't try to take up residence elsewhere. I didn't think it was necessary for me to kill him because my windowsill is not a prime location to live during a Logan winter. Soon enough, I saw Charlie's web without Charlie hanging in it. I had assumed he had finally curled up into a ball and was laying at the bottom of my window along with all the other dead bugs. I was wrong, and Charlie has gotten bigger. Much bigger.
The other night, while I was reading on my bed, Charlie decided to make an appearance--perhaps to show off how much bigger he had grown. Charlie is an arrogant prick sometimes. At first I didn't think it was him, and mistook him for a hobo spider. But the leg markings were very clear, and it was indeed Charlie.
The next challenge, after recovering from the initial shock of seeing my old friend and wondering what he could have been eating to grow so much bigger, was to decide what to do with him. I didn't have anything handy to kill him with, so I caught him in a Tupperware bowl and was going to execute him toilet style. However, after looking into his eight or ten--thousand eyes and realizing that not once since his escape from the windowsill did he ever come near me or (more importantly) where I slept, I decided that Charlie and I have too much history for me to flush him. He deserves his freedom, or at least a more noble death.
But where could I release him? Not in my room for damn sure. Probably not even in the house, since Charlie could (in actuality) be a Suzy and leave a sack full of Dick and Janes to burst open in the Spring. Nor can I simply toss him outside. Charlie is a wuss when it comes to the cold, he wouldn't last a second in the deep, Logan snow. So, for right now, he is trapped in a Tupperware bowl (with the lid on--hence trapped this time) waiting for me to decide what to do with him.
He may wait quite some time.