When the spousal-type’s down on the floor, peakin’ under the bed, tryin’ to make sure that giant wolf spider remained affixed to the cardboard for the duration of the journey from the bathroom wall … through the bedroom … and all the way outside where you tossed the cardboard ‘cause he started lookin’ peevish … neither of ya really sure where it ended up … and you walk back into the bedroom … find her down on all fours … and with every bit of nonchalance you can manage to muster … come up behind her and say, “oh, there he is.”