And to add insult, the woman from whom I was picking up a train table for Freddie wasn't fucking home. So I have a ruined flip flop, a sullied foot, wasted time and no train table.
You wanna hear another fun one. Stepping on a mouse's head with bare feet that my cat left on the door mat. My toes still curl up when I think of that and it happened over 10 years ago, I'll forever be cursed with that awful memory.
On the plus side, you're going to need new flipflops.
I make sure to only ever use H's shoes so I don't have to thrown away mine. And yeah, I'd throw them away rather than remove squished spider from them.