I was doing well. I mean, it was a pretty good morning. God had been good to me and most people had been nice too. I went to staff meeting and everyone was pleasant. I ran a couple of errands. No sweat. I stopped by my house. I was a little hungry. Nothing major. I grabbed the last banana on the kitchen counter. I peeled it, thowing the yellow God-made wrapper onto the already overflowing trashcan. I made my exit and continued on my daily duties.
It happened about 45 minutes later. It started with a rumble in my tummy. Then another. Then it began moving upward. No, not the rumble. The banana. It didn't stop until it was back in the light of day. (Personal note: If you have to eat something that you expect to throw up, a banana is not a bad choice. It pretty much tastes the same going both ways.)
I went home. I fell onto the love seat in our family prayer room. I prayed to die. God said, "No." Darn. A couple of hours later I was feeling better and I passed through the kitchen, noticing the browned banana peal on the garbage pile. I picked it up and examined it. What could possibly be in a banana that would make you hurl?
Now I know. I found what appeared to be two ... TWO ... spider legs. They were on the peel. How many legs do spiders have? I do not know. But I know that they have more than two. I suspect that the remainder went with the banana (not to mention the little spider torso) into my mouth and into my tummy. And they had a round-trip ticket.
There actually is a point to this story. Several points. First, don't eat spiders. Second, if you do eat spiders stay close to a garbage can or at least a paper bag. And finally, chew your food at least 16 times per bite. One for each leg.
God, thank you for spiders. If you keep a running count on them like you do on sparrow's, well, I am afraid I made you get out your eraser today. Sorry about that. I'll try to stick with cows and chickens from now on.