I did something very brave today – not because I wanted to, but because I knew if I didn’t act quick, I would face a more undesirable situation. It wasn’t something as simple as jumping out of a perfectly good airplane and skydiving through the air. No, it was much worse. I came face to face with a beady eyed snake. Now anyone who knows me, knows I don’t like snakes (or spiders for that matter). I had no other choice. There was no one to come to my rescue. I didn’t even have my phone to call anyone.
As I came in the side door at my dad’s house, I saw the offensive ophidian. (That word even sounds offensive, doesn’t it?) Did you know snakes are prolific at climbing stairs and they don’t even have any legs? Well, that black and gray snake’s head was above the top step and he was about to pull its curved body onto the floor. I said, “Oh no you don’t!” But what was I going to do? I had to act quick. I knew if I went for help, that critter would be hiding under something and scare the bejeebees out of me whenever I got back.
The offensive ophidian of the day was this guy’s cousin.
There was no other option. I ran up the steps and grabbed the first stick-looking contraption I could find, slid it under one of his coils and headed down the steps, and said, “Don’t you dare jump off this stick!” Can you guess what happened? You got it! That critter jumped off the stick and slithered to the edge of the top of the steps that led to the basement.
I was on the verge of saying a bad word, but I didn’t. Instead, I told that slippery slimy creature, “You’re not getting away”, and then, stick still in hand, I hit it. Now don’t judge me! I didn’t bash its head, I just hit it on the backside and smushed it’s fat body in the crack between the step and the door. Then, I put the stick under the offensive serpent, lifted him carefully, and tossed him into the yard. I said, “You’d better get out of here fast or you are toast!” He looked at me with those beady eyes but didn’t say a word, nor did he even stick his forked tongue out. He slithered away with a kink in his belly, moving very slowly.
I didn’t wait around. Instead, I made a quick getaway and went to the neighbors’ house and told them my tale. There was grand applause, and I took a bow. Now, I am not a master at snake handling, nor do I want to accomplish that feat.
They had the nerve to ask, “How big was it?” What kind of question is that? It was huge! If I would have had a talking measuring tape, I’m sure it would have lied and said that six-foot snake was merely two feet long. As soon as I took my husband over to verify that it was not just a tall tale, the limbless slitherer slipped away into the woods. It’s a good thing my husband didn’t see it all stretched out like I did. He might deny my claims, but don’t listen to him. Just take my word for it!