Brooke here. Back from traveling, maintenance and home posts resume.
Me (on phone with my mom): Stuff stuff stuff stuff chitter chatter stuff.
Mom: Stuff stuff chitter chatter stuff stuff.
Me: Oh. Hm. Just fished a black widow out of the pool.
Mom: What?
Me: Yeah, it’s almost dead. I’ll just dump it in the woods.
Mom: Or, kill it.
Me: Well it’s almost dead.
Mom: Yes, but you could also kill it.
Me: But… fine.
I apply a brick.
Me (on phone with Brown): Chitter chatter stuff stuff, black widow.
Brown: Did you kill it?
Me: Mom made me. She said it was her Mother’s Day present.
Brown: And you spent all that money on a card.
(p.s.: Hating the new WordPress post format.)
Flying by night 
I’m impressed, you would have been able to hear my wife’s scream from three counties away.
Yeaaaah. I’m usually a live and let live guy with regards to spiders. But black widows, brown recluses, and anything that causes serious nastiness with a bite… terminated with extreme prejudice.