So, there was no tuffet, neither were there any dairy products. There was, however, a great big hairy spider. Don't get me wrong, I'm not arachnophobic and actually like spiders. They eat mosquitoes, so I see them as good luck. But this spider was on my leg.

There I was, sitting on a hill in the park, enjoying the day. I felt something brush my arm, and when I looked down, there was a spider about the size of my thumbnaiil, crawling along my outer thigh. I've seen some big spiders before. I've seen hugey-huge ones in containment, and I've seen the kind with medium-sized bodies and lots o'leg in the wild. While this one was smaller than the caged tarantulas I've seen, it had all those thin, spindly spiders beat to hell. It was...muscular. It was fat and hairy, and all of it's parts were clearly visible. Eight beady eyes stared at me and its palps waved around.

I jumped about a foot it shock, brushing it off onto the grass. I watched it creep about for a few minutes, then decided that if I was sitting in its territory, I had best go elsewhere. So, elsewhere I went.

About an hour later I was sitting on a park bench, soaking up the sun (through SPF 15) and listening to all the park sounds. I glanced over at my bike, which was parked next to me in the grass, and sitting on the seat was another spider. Smaller than the first and of a different breed, it was still pretty hefty. I decided that have a spider build its web on my bicycle would be less than ideal, so this spider was also sent to the grass.

Just call me Miss Muffet, y'all,