Monday, August 29, 2011

Snakes in the House

Yesterday, one of my fears became true. I found a snake inside my house.

I found a SNAKE. INSIDE my HOUSE.

It was crawling...scratch that... SLITHERING on my kitchen floor. It was much larger than the 5 inches John is telling people it was. It was at least a foot long...a ruler is a foot, right? It was at least a foot long. But it might as well have been a python because it was INSIDE my HOUSE. Inside.

When I spotted it on this lazy Sunday afternoon, I did what any good mother would do with her two toddlers in the same room. I screamed and jumped on top of the kitchen counter. "Sssssnnnnaaakkkeee" I squealed to John. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh" and the shudders were taking over my body like a seizure. Colt asked me what was wrong and I smiled sweetly, grit my teeth and said "nothing, honey, Mommy is just being so silly!". I eyed John to GET OVER HERE THIS IS NOT OK.

He caught the snake, thanks to my quick actions of finding a mason jar and a fork. I'm a downright hero around here. He took it next door and, with our neighbor, determined it to be a garter snake. Then he walked about 300 yards in the field behind our house and let it go.

He let it go. Yes, it's head was still intact. This was unsettling to me, but I assumed I was just being a weenie.

But the consensus among social media, which I took to within minutes of discovery, is that SNAKE IN HOUSE NOT OK. SNAKE IN HOUSE NOT NORMAL. Every single suggestion, except my sister-in-law's (which, she is related to my husband so I assume the lack of common sense is genetic), was to KILLITSHOWNOMERCYCUTTHEHEADOFF.

But nope. It's out there. In that field I can see from my kitchen window. It's going to come back, probably with friends and family. It's a regular AT&T commercial up in my house.

John kept teasing me, as a good supportive understanding husband would do. So I punched him and told him to stop. Colt said "what did Daddy do?". I told him that Daddy was being mean to Mommy. Colt got very serious, walked over to John and pointed to the hallway. "Daddy, you go timeout RIGHT.NOW. We don't be mean to Mommy".

That's right, the 2-year-old put Daddy in timeout. It was the right thing to do. Then Colt took my hand, showed me the window on the backdoor and said "the snake can't get you anymore...it's ok, baby".

Guess who I love more? Geez, that kid eats me up with the sweetness and compassion.

I slept fitfully last night. I now walk with my head down to make sure I don't see any snakes, or worse STEP on one. I have been shaking all shoes before slipping my bare feet into them.

I'm thinking of interviewing realtors this week. We clearly can't keep living here.

5 comments:

Suzy, Not a Fertile Myrtle said...

Dude. A snake IN THE HOUSE is so not cool.

My motto:
The only good snake is a dead snake.

I think it's time to move. :D

Angie said...

Your post is HYSTERICAL! Your words just make me laugh. For the record, I HATE snakes! I would be gone, with my kids and leave my husband at the house with the damn snake he did not kill!!!! We occasionally get a garter in our yard and if we do, my DH has been told, it MUST be beheaded before he steps foot back into this house! So... a few have perished but I'm A-OK with that!

Michele said...

Hahaha, I love that Colt put John in timeout. That is precious! How can you not love that little boy?

But I would not have cut off the snakes head. ew. think of the mess it would have attracted and the retribution you'd face from the snake's family as retaliation. WAY worse than just sparing his little snake life. :)

JJ said...

Oh hoooooly crap. You would have heard me scream from here!!

N/A said...

First - THANK YOU for creeping on my blog. Because if you didn't - I would not be laughing and cringing all at the same time!!!

This post might make you laugh! http://ruralgoneurban.com/2011/06/11/snakes-live-in-the-country/