Near death experience.

Oh yes.  It was one of those days.

First let me "land the plane" so none of you worry before you even start the story.
WE ARE ALL OK HERE.  NO PERSONS WERE HARMED DURING THE HAPPENING OF THIS EVENT barring a few extra gray hairs.

Here's how it all went down.

The boys were playing innocently outside on a beautiful, sunshiney afternoon.  I grabbed the opportunity to run upstairs and download some pictures for a client.  While said CD was burning I happened to turn to my (#2) most favorite internet time-waster, Facebook.  I was shocked to learn that a friend had just found a Black Widow in her back yard.  Check that - her SON had found a Black Widow in their back yard.  I quickly find out all the necessary details - Definite Black Widow?  Yes.  Distance from my house?  Way too close.  Location of deadly creature?  BACK YARD.  Where were my kids at that very moment?  IN OUR BACK YARD.

In a mad mommy panicked dash I raced downstairs, grabbed the boys, and proceeded to put the fear of God into their little minds about how horrible and deadly Black Widows are.  #1 most poisonous spider in North America.  Epicenter practically located directly over our house.  Pictures downloaded on internet.  Videos watched.  Webs analyzed.  I may have gone a little too far.  But I wanted them to know what to do if they ever ran into this type of creature:

#1.  Scream like a little girl.
#2.  RUN AWAY.  Do NOT try to capture, pick up, or further examine said deadly creature.
#3.  Come get Mommy or Daddy.

I made them repeat it again and again until we were all laughing from the silliness.  After all, who really sees a bona fide Black Widow spider in their back yard?  Certainly not average American citizens like us.

We all breathed a sigh of relief at our cushy comfort and went downstairs.

I tried to put on a brave face for the kids but I have to admit I had been sufficiently spooked.  And I couldn't even begin to think how I was going to tell Mark.  Who is DEATHLY AFRAID OF SPIDERS!!!  (sorry honey but you know it's true.)

I set out a craft for them to do on our nice, safe kitchen table, far away from the vast unknown that is our back yard.  I set about my business and started to take out some recycling to the garage.

That's when I saw it.

It was not on the internet.  It was not five miles away in a friend's back yard, seen from the safety of my own home office.  It was in my freaking garage, on a metal stool.  BLACK WIDOW.

In fairness, I did exactly what I was supposed to do.  I screamed like a little girl, ran away, and cried out for my mommy.

The boys could not believe it.  An actual Black Widow, literally minutes after we'd just learned how fierce and deadly and vicious they are.

And of course we were out of our spider killer spray.  (Which I may have later vindictively accused my husband of over-using on a harmless garden spider that may have slightly resembled a Brown Recluse.)   But we did have flying insect spray and wasp & hornet spray.  I thought, meh, better than nothing.

I did try to protect myself with some kitchen gloves but who are we kidding??  This was a Black Widow we were talking about here.  Deadliest spider in North America.  No house gloves are gonna hold this baby back.  I'm as good as dead.  The children are motherless.  Watching me shrivel to death in agony in front of their very eyes.

But don't worry.  I did not panic.  And I must also say I did not use any four-letter words.  For that I am extremely proud.

I put one can in each hand and sprayed with all my might.  I sprayed a huge chemical atom bomb on that thing.  I thought surely if the spider doesn't kill us the fumes will.

But then I didn't see it.

And let me tell you, I was not resting until I found that body.  I needed to see the body to believe it was dead or there was no way I could sleep in our house ever again.

It had curled up inside one of the little legs of the metal stool.  I couldn't tell for sure if it was dead or not.  Even with the gloves I sure wasn't going near that thing.  The boys' eyes were as big as saucers.  I grabbed the stool on one end and carried it like it was on fire out to the front yard.  That's right, for all my neighbors to watch me act like a crazy woman attacking a little spider.  But gosh dang it I was going to get that spider so help me.

I got a stick and carefully, gingerly pulled it out.  I'm pretty sure it was dead.  But for the sake of the story let's say it was wiggling just a little bit.  The boys were screaming and my heart was pumping.  I scooped it up into a tupperware container because...  well...  that's what boy moms do.  They save gross stuff.

Right about that time Mark pulled up.  I had not worked out how to tell him yet that a horrible man eating ferocious animal had worked it's way into our home.  I shouldn't have worried.  The boys took care of that part.

They quickly described in great detail how incredibly brave I was, fearless really, and I was given a new nickname.  Princess of the Brave.  I must admit, my chest swelled a little bit and I nearly cried when I realized that my old nickname (Super Dog) had finally been replaced with one of honor.  Pierce looked at me and said stoically, "Mommy.  You can totally be in our army now."

So was it worth it?  My near death experience?  Are you kidding me???  You now know a Princess.  I have never been so cool.