It gives me the heebie jeebies just typing about it but I feel it’s my blogging obligation.
Sunday afternoon as we were getting ready to leave for Blade’s football game, Blade discovered a bull snake hanging out in our driveway right by my vehicle, the Princess Mobile. It was about 40 feet long and 3 feet around. Would I exaggerate about something like this?!? The bull snake was not very happy about Blade invading her territory and tried to bite him. I was not very happy about a bull snake invading my territory aka my yard/driveway/abode so I ran and jumped in the car and locked the doors. You know, completely rational behavior.
Why must I show fear? They’re like sharks, they sense it, they feed on it. And by they, I mean my beloved boys, husband included.
Instead of kindly removing the snake from my immediate radius, GI Joe with the encouragement of his sons, put it on the windshield of the PMobile to terrorize me. TERRORIZE I SAY. I was losing my mind. And screaming. And hyperventilating. They found this all very VERY funny.
The snake however did not and slithered off the windshield and under the hood. Or so we thought. I was just glad it was out of my sight. Until GI Joe popped the hood and saw it slither over and disappear down into the passenger side wheel well. THE PASSENGER SIDE where I was sitting. I was FUH-REAKING out. I mean, how could I be sure that that nasty snake wouldn’t slither it’s way and suddenly appear at my feet on the passenger side? I don’t really know automobile anatomy and whether or not this is possible but in my mind IT TOTALLY WAS.
We had to leave for the game so I grudgingly let them in the car so we could leave and then promptly chewed them out “FOR PUTTING A SNAKE ON THE WINDSHIELD OF MY CAR AND I AM NOT DRIVING THIS VEHICLE UNTIL IT HAS BEEN CONFIRMED THE SNAKE IS GONE AND WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?” You guys, why do people who supposedly LOVE me insist on torturing me with such things? And why do they find it so darn hilarious? There is nothing funny about a grown woman turning ghost white in the face, screaming like a banchee, on the verge of hysterical tears, with her body in pretzel formation to put her feet on the middle console (because the snake could’ve climbed through the glovebox and landed on her feet…duh!). NOTHING.
So we drove to town with me still in hysterics, feet on the center console, and the men in my life laughing to the point of tears. I was a prisoner in my own Princess Mobile. It was a dark, dark time. I told GI Joe very matter of factly that I WOULD not, COULD not, drive the PMobile until we saw that the snake had exited. I was not even kidding because imagine the detriment I would cause to myself and others on the road if that snake showed it’s nasty little head IN my vehicle as I was driving down the interstate? Certain death. And then I was terrified to get out of the PMobile because what if it had slithered from the wheel well to under my door?!? When we got to the school, he popped the hood and could see no sign of the snake. That did nothing to calm my already shaky nerves. By this time I desperately needed a cold drink and it was 45 minutes to game time so even though I had just said I would never drive it again, I decided it was safer on the driver’s side (the non snake side) than the passenger side so Ryder and I took off for Casey’s, a mere ¼ mile away. He sat in the front passenger seat to be on snake duty for me and was still giggling at the cold sweat pouring off of me as I obsessed about the snake that was most definitely building a nest in my glovebox and producing a million baby snakes that would infest and take over my PMobile while I was driving to work on Monday morning. Active imagination much? We made it to Casey’s, snakeless, and I deadsprinted out of the PMobile and into Casey’s. Ryder sauntered in behind me at a leisurely pace. I questioned him thoroughly when he finally came in on whether or not he had seen the snake fall from the bottom of my truck or was it waiting for him when he stepped out of the car. He just rolled his eyes, said no, and got a Gatorade. Lame.
As we were paying for our drinks, my purse strap fell off my shoulder and down my arm and I *may* or *may not* have audibly gasped and jumped because I was pretty sure it was the snake. It’s completely reasonable to think that the snake would infiltrate my purse and choose to sneak up on me while I was in line at Casey’s. The cashier looked at me concerned and I quickly explained, “We just had a very intense run in with a snake and I’m a little jumpy.” She nodded knowingly. Clearly, she’d had some snake run ins of her own.
After we paid, I ran out to the PMobile and basically high jumped from the curb to the driver’s seat, touching as little cement as possible because WHAT IF THE SNAKE WAS ON THE GROUND AROUND OR UNDER MY TRUCK?!? I couldn’t take the chance. Ryder, of course, was moving at a snail’s pace and as he opened the passenger door he said, “The snake is right here Mommy.” I screamed, obviously. I mean, right here as in HERE?!? Where?!? It was on the ground right by his feet, or so he said. I, of course, didn’t believe him because it’s hard to trust a boy who was, minutes ago, conspiring against me with his father and brother with a a snake. I told him to hurry up and get in. I wanted to see the snake to verify that it was no longer in my vehicle but not at close range. So I backed up (apparently rather abruptly and tires may have squealed), saw it slithering around in the parking lot where my truck had just been parked, and hightailed it out of there singing “Hallelujah” all the way.
Ryder was laughing hard and said, “Holy cow, why are you going so fast? Do you think the snake is going to chase you?!”
Listen, it’s all fun and games until the snake slithers back up into your vehicle. I was not taking any chances.
To Casey’s, Sorry about the wild beast, humongous, anaconda snake I left in your parking lot on Sunday. Actually, no I’m not, better you than me.
To My Dear Husband & Sons, If you EVER pull that kind of stunt again you will be sleeping in a tent in the backyard for an indeterminate amount of time. Rain, thunderstorm, snow, 30 below? I don’t care. No, you know what? That’s not severe enough. I will force you to go to Ulta with me and spend 2 hours perusing makeup and hair products and then spraying 50 different kinds of perfume for you to sniff, oh and then we’ll finish off our day of beauty with mani/pedis and purse shopping. Oh YES I will. Do NOT test me. You are to PROTECT me from such things NOT use them against me. You’ve been warned. From now on, if you see a snake you are to remove it from our property and never speak of it or show it to me. This is non negotiable.
To The Stupid, Ugly, Scaly, Disgusting Snake, EWWWWW. Remember how you used to have legs? But then God cursed you and now you have to slither everywhere? (Sucks to be you.) Yeah, well if even God doesn’t like you, I certainly don’t have to. Now kindly please stay away from me, my house and my vehicle.