Thanks, Part 3

I'm sure you give thanks When I come home,
Ready to kill those spiders,
So you can lift your glass and toast
And then drink down all your ciders.

And though, at times, the bugs evade,
I do try to track them down,
As I know that sneaky arthropods
Tend to make you frown.

So, shoe or slipper or swatter be
In my hand, at the ready,
And the bugs' life will be cut short
By a cudgel at the steady.

I know that you like I
Have a distaste for bugs,
And so, when you need consolation,
I'll be there giving hugs.