How To Get Rid House Spiders

Let’s be honest: house spiders are the uninvited houseguests who never bring a bottle of wine. They just show up, build a messy hammock in your corner, and stare at you with all those eyes. You didn’t ask for a roommate with eight legs and a weird hobby, yet here we are.

Before you panic, know this: you are not alone. Every single person reading this has done the “spider dance”—that frantic, flailing shuffle where you try to back away while keeping one eye on the ceiling and the other on the exit. That’s the universal sign that a spider just photobombed your day.

The good news is that evicting these tiny trespassers doesn’t require a hazmat suit or a wizard. You just need a little strategy, a dash of bravery (or a long-handled broom), and a sense of humor. Let’s walk through it together, one awkward encounter at a time.

Step One: The Honest Spider Audit

First, admit the truth: your house is a spider buffet. They’re not here for you; they’re here for the other bugs you didn’t know you had. Think of spiders as the weird, solitary housekeepers who only show up when the kitchen is dirty.

If you want them gone, you have to make your home boring. No crumbs. No dust bunnies. No forgotten flies buzzing near the window. If you remove their menu, they eventually pack their tiny bags and leave.

But let’s be real: nobody has the energy to deep-clean their baseboards every Tuesday. So we need shortcuts—and maybe a little help from nature.

Step Two: The Smelly Offense

Spiders absolutely hate strong smells. It’s like when you walk into a room with a pungent piece of cheese—you just nope right back out. Peppermint oil is your weapon of choice here.

Mix a few drops of peppermint oil with water in a spray bottle. Spritz it along windowsills, door frames, and any crack you suspect a spider might use as a secret subway entrance. It smells like Christmas; to a spider, it smells like run away.

You can also use vinegar, but be warned: your house will smell like a pickle factory for a day. Worth it? Maybe. Just don’t spray it on your curtains unless you want to smell like a deli counter.

Step Three: The Pea-Brained Deception

Here’s a funny truth: spiders have terrible vision. They navigate by feeling vibrations. So a classic trick is to place a few chestnuts (yes, real horse chestnuts) in corners. The spider thinks a giant, spiky monster lives nearby and avoids that zone.

No chestnuts? No problem. A few dried bay leaves or a wad of cinnamon sticks will do the same thing. It’s like putting up a “do not enter” sign written in spider-language. Silly? Absolutely. But does it work? I’ve done it, and my living room spider count dropped from “annoying” to “none.”

If you want to get really passive-aggressive, buy a bottle of cedarwood spray. Spiders treat cedar the way you treat a dentist appointment—they avoid it at all costs.

Step Four: The Dustpan of Shame

I know, I know. You want to “get rid” of them forever. But here’s the painful truth: you live in a house with cracks, and spiders are the Houdinis of the insect world. The goal is population control, not extinction.

So when you see one, do the mature thing: grab a glass and a piece of paper. Trap it. Slide the paper under the glass. And then—this is the real test—carry it outside. Yes, even if it’s the size of a quarter.

I once carried a spider out wearing oven mitts, screaming softly. No shame. The spider got a new life in the garden; I got a story to tell at dinner parties. We both won.

Step Five: The Frequent Flaw—Your Light Switches

Spiders love outdoor lights because bugs love outdoor lights. And where bugs go, spiders follow. So if you have a porch light, switch it to a yellow bug light. It attracts fewer insects, which means fewer spiders camped out by your front door.

Also, check your door sweeps. If you can slide a piece of paper under your front door, a spider can crawl through. It’s basically a welcome mat for eight-legged freeloaders.

Seal those gaps with weatherstripping, and suddenly your house feels like a fortress. A fortress with peppermint-scented corners and a chestnut in every crevice. You know, domestic intimidation at its finest.

Step Six: The Peaceful Coexistence (Optional)

Here’s a wild idea: maybe you don’t need to get rid of every single spider. A few cellar spiders (the spindly, delicate ones) are actually useful. They catch other spiders and flies, like tiny, eight-legged bounty hunters who work for free.

If a spider is minding its business in a dusty corner you never visit, let it be. You’ll forget it exists until it moves, and by then, you’ll have a new appreciation for your silent, web-weaving landlord.

But if it’s in your bed? That’s war. No negotiation. You evict that thing with extreme prejudice and a lot of yelling. No one judges you for that.

Final Wisdom: Breathe

Spiders are not out to get you. They don’t plan revenge. They’re just dumb, tiny creatures looking for a snack and a dry place to nap. You are a giant, warm, and terrifying god in their world.

So take a deep breath. Grab your peppermint oil. Accept that you’ll never live in a completely spider-free house—just like you’ll never live in a stress-free life. But with a little effort, you can get the population down to “a novelty once a month.”

And when that happens, you’ll smile. Because you’re smarter than a spider. You have opposable thumbs and a bottle of vinegar. And that, my friend, is the real superpower.