Chris DiCanio, this one's for you...

So yesterday we left to go downtown to grab some food and the internet. Mike followed me to the door but then stopped a good distance behind me and said, very loudly in his Mike Brand voice, "WHAT the hell is THAT?!" So I'm expecting like a tiny little spider or something (he hates bugs of all sorts and tends to exaggerate their size.. sorry Mike, but it's true!) and I look and see a worm-y thing freaking out on the ground, trying to crawl but not able to go anywhere because the floor was so slippery. First thing that pops into my mind is that it's one of those weird tapeworm things that crawls into your orifices and goes through the whole body. But Mike realizes that a worm would probably be able to grip to the floor, so he leans closer then jumps up and says "I saw a tongue! It's a snake! It's a $#@^&% snake!" which prompts me to jump and yell and freak out. The thing was literally about 4 inches long and as thick as a piece of twine, and I didn't think it was possible for a snake to be that small so I leaned down to look and sure enough, out pops its tiny tiny little tongue as it's trying to move. I jump and scream again. (MawMaw, if you're reading this, I'm sure you're having flashbacks to when I was visiting you in Ohio and saw the little snake on the nature walk and started SCREAMING. Let me assure you, the only reason I was so scared this time was because I didn't know if this tiny little snake hatched from a big mommy snake somewhere else in the house and I'd discover it at a later date. I still get the chills thinking about it).

So anyway, we're in the house trying to figure out what to do with this baby snake. Mike first takes a stack of papers and starts to try to push it out the door, but it SPAZZED out and moved around faster than I thought possible for an animal. Next idea: I went outside to grab the squeegee-mop thing we use to clean the floor in our house, but in the process I'm making some grossed-out-noises and Jeanette (the girl who cooks and cleans for the people who own our home) comes out to see what's wrong. She doesn't speak any English so I just point and she grabs the squeegee thing, runs into the house, and shoos it outside. But she's not done there. She starts whacking and thwacking away with the squeegee, stopping occassionally to look and to see that it was still moving. She takes off her shoe and hits and hits and hits... stops, looks... hits hits hits... At this point, I'm laughing, Mike's laughing, and Immaculee (the woman who owns our house) is laughing, while Jeanette seems to be letting go of 17 years of pent-up anger. It's finally dead, so she pushes it down the drain, followed by a bucket of water just to make sure it's really gone.

Needless to say, I still get the creeps thinking about it and watch every step that I take. The size of the snake doesn't do justice to the few memories I have of snakes in our yard in Texas, but nonetheless, no one wants snakes in their house. So Chris D., when are you coming to visit?! :)