Late Friday afternoon, I got home and stepped out of the car.
And then I found myself staring at a quarter-sized, shiny black spider with a large abdomen in the corner of the garage.
A black widow had made our home her home, and I was none too happy about it.
A quick glance at its underside sent shivers down my spine as I noted the dreaded red hourglass.
I grew up thinking black widows=death.
I still remember my dramatic friend's whispered description of the spider, concluding with, "One bite...BOOM! You're dead."
I was only about 7 years old at the time, and I believed every word.
And although I'm a bit more educated about the issue today, I think I still have some of that residual terror!
Needless to say, I was so relieved when Sam came home and smashed it for us.
Then, he took me to the temple,
and as soon as we got home he washed all the dinner dishes.
AKA, he basically saved the universe.
A lady in Texas would always refer to him as "Superman,"
which only backed up the similarities I had noticed between the two.
He may come off as Clark Kent--a bit reserved, very smart...
but behind those glasses lies a 6'4" tall, dark, handsome guy
who nonchalantly performs superhuman acts on a regular basis.
You know, like washing dishes and killing deadly spiders before they bite our children.