'Twas a Sunday morning like any other; I got up, showered, dressed, got the dinner things together, started the cinnamon rolls to baking - nothing unusual about that.
But this was Easter Sunday.
So, of course I wanted it to be a good day, a special day for the kids.
I got the kids up, put the little one in his highchair and gave his breakfast, started dressing the big sister...so far, so good.
And then, it happened.
I went toward our bedroom, across the kitchen, going after a pair of sock for the little gal.........
And just as I passed the table, about to step into the bedroom, there, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something move.
Ok, so this is Louisiana. There is a great abundance of wildlife here. Bugs thrive. Lizards thrive-possibly due to the aforesaid bugs. Our house, much to my dismay, is inhabited by many different species of bug; lizards and frogs are not uncommon; the mice are trying to take over. I'm considering buying stock in a pest control company.
So, anyway, back to the wiggle.
It took a minute to register (by which time I had passed into the bedroom), but it dawned on me that THAT was not your ordinary wiggle.
So I went back for another look.
Sure enough. This little wiggler that had come to crawl - oops, I mean CALL, was not any of the previously mentioned wildlife.
THERE WAS A SNAKE IN MY HOUSE!!!!!!!
Well, it just so happened, my kiddos had drug a glass canning jar out of the cabinet tio play with, and it was still laying on the floor where they had left it. The little snakey dude had found it and crawled inside to check it out - so I grabbed the dustpan and attempted to cover to top of the jar and lock him in.
So far, so good, right?
He escaped, and headed under the fish tank. At this point, I decided to alert the man of the house to our visitor.
So, armed with broom and mop, we poked around under the fish tanks, and, sure enough, out he came - headed staight for the bedroom; I cut him off at the pass, so he tried for the kitchen. The boss-man wonked him on the head the his handy-dandy mop, so he turned and headed for the back door. GREAT!
Unfortunately, as it happens in most trailers, to get to the back door you have to first pass through the laundry room.
Folks, my laundry room is also my pantry, and the room where everything in thehouse that doesn't have a permanant home goes to die.
Mr. Snakey-poo was well hidden.
I poked around for a bit, but no reptile.
Finally, the hubby, now armed to the teeth with shovel and garden rake began an assault on said laundry room.
And, after much digging and tossing, unearthed our friendly guest.
Oh, the whacking and pounding that did ensue.
To make a long story short, Mr. Snake ended up snake soup. Only the rake and one jar of apple butter were broken in the process! :)
And miracle of all miracles, Ju never did figure out what all the banging was about!!!!
And, we made it to Sunday School with 3 minutes to spare!