Scott is a man of few words (unless the subject is hunting, chemistry, something Biblical, or a few other things.) So one day last week, during our nightly phone call, I was thrilled when the first words out of his mouth were, "Well, I actually have something interesting to tell you tonight." I think that's the first time he's said that in 7+ years. I was a little afraid he was about to tell me that he'd just gotten a job in Zimbabwe, but instead he said, "Uh, we had a little explosion today."

Eeeek.

He said everybody was all right, then explained something about blah blah blah ozone has no liquid phase, and therefore the chamber and purple monkey dishwasher, and then it exploded. (I promise I listened to the explanation, but I'm not smart enough to retain half of the technical details he gives sometimes.)

I asked him if this means he's mutated himself - will he start growing a third ear or an eleventh toe? Will our kids to have six kidneys and 3/4 of a frontal lobe? He said no. We shall see.

Ooooh, what if he turned himself into a supervillian in this laboratory experiment gone awry? I'll have to be hypervigilant, listening for maniacal laughter ("Mwahahahaha HA HA HAAA!"), and watching for crazy eyes or the addition of a super-suit to his wardrobe. Also, the appearance of a superhero (accompanied by a groundswell of confrontational music, of course) would tip me off. Hey, that might not be so bad after all. I'd like to request Tobey Maguire (who I think is cuter as Peter Parker than as Spiderman, for some reason) or Val Kilmer, please, and I'll be the damsel in distress.