me, in kitchen: Hey, look at that! There are a couple of smaller versions of Beatrice running around near the sink. [leaning closer] Naw, they're not as hairy as she was. But that's pretty amazing. I wonder where they came from.
me: Huh? How do you know that? How'd they get in?
husband: You seemed so sad about that other spider I went out and caught these.
Both spiders eventually hunkered down behind objects on the windowsill and looked gloomy for a while. Then they disappeared. They've scuttled off to somewhere less exposed, I expect. I hope they lead long and happy lives in the basement where I won't find their webs. Oh how I hate running into unexpected spider webs.
But still, it's about as romantic a gesture as anyone's ever made--because, hey, my husband doesn't much like spiders.