My brush with death…a snake tale

I unintentionally caused a stir amongst my social media friends today. Well, to be honest, at first it was unintentional and then I may have stirred the pot a little.

I think I gave McDreamy (whoever that is) a run for his money as top Facebook story today.

I have a brother-in-law who HATES snakes. He is not on Instagram but my sister is. I thought by posting on Instagram an actual picture of the snake that Keith would know I was telling the truth about finding a snake in my laundry pile (because everything on Instagram is true!). . . I know. I know. I put way too much thought into impressing my brother-in-law with my snake catching skills.

Let me start off by saying that the picture, the story, and my decision to leave the house for the rest of the day are 100% true. My heart rate is still coming down from it all.

But after reading about 10 comments on my Facebook, I may have stirred the pot a little by intentionally keeping one tiny fact and picture to myself. I didn’t even send the the “whole truth” picture to Joe.

No lies were ever told, but the full truth of the story has not been revealed until now.

Here’s a picture of the snake I found.

Here’s a picture of the dead snake.

And here’s the picture that reveals how small the snake actually was.

The size of the snake is what makes the story that much more funny.

So, because I told bits and pieces today on social media…I thought I would record it here for all to enjoy and for me to come back to someday when I forget the horrifyingly hilarious details of my morning.

It was back to normal at our house this morning. Baby B had returned late last night from Camp Mimi’s house. Our family had enjoyed a toddler free fun-filled week of ‘just the four of us.’ But we were all so thankful to wake up this morning to the sight and sound of our 17 month old making demands by pointing her finger, slamming her chest with the sign for please, all while letting out demanding grunts that said anything but ‘please.’

The first two hours of the a normal school day around our house are like an impressive round of tag team wrestling.

Together Joe and I successfully got the big kids off to school and him off to work (successful does not mean I know if teeth were brushed or homework was completed…we have lowered the bar of success around our house these days…that’s realistic life with a toddler and preteens).

I shut the door after kissing Joe goodbye and turned with a smile staring at my toddler who at this point was demanding another ‘nana,’ after having already eaten an entire banana.

“No, nana” which resulted in this. . .

I do not always have the perspective I had this morning. I took the above picture of my crying toddler and posted this comment on Instagram (more as a reminder to me to remember when I don’t have good perspective about mothering a toddler than it was advice to anyone else).

“Coming off the mountaintop experience of farm life at Camp Mimi’s is a cruel form of detox for a toddler. I thank God everyday that my kids have grandparents that love on them and spoil them. I always dreamed of having memories with the grandparents I never got to know in person. The detox of spoiling is worth it all. Life and relationship with those you love is a priceless treasure to celebrate and detox of spoiling is a very small price to pay.”

I really felt that way in that moment. With a skip in my step and joy in my heart, I put the toddler in the pack and play and turned on Daniel the Tiger (please do not judge) and with the best of attitude went to go start a load of towels that needed to be washed…

Confession, so that you understand that it is a rare occasion when I am joyful about laundry…I have heard people say that they love washing all their children’s clothing…that it reminds them of the blessing that they are and that someday I will miss doing so much laundry…I do not typically have these feelings when I do laundry…I will miss a lot of things about these days of my life but I’m pretty sure all the laundry is not in the top ten of things I will miss…proof that I need my above Instagram post reminder more than anyone…my big kids already know how to do their own laundry and I am counting down the days until Baby B can chip in too! It is a rare day that I go to the laundry room with joy in my heart for all that God has given to me.

Back to the snake story…

I turned on the water to fill my top loading washer, and then bent down to pick up the pile of towels that had collected on the laundry room floor. As I began pushing the bundle of towels into the machine, I noticed something that I couldn’t identify…a string? a belt? My mind knew those things didn’t make sense…but I didn’t give my mind long enough to tell my hand what to do…

I reached down and grabbed the unidentifiable object and yanked it up long enough for it to look me in the eyes.

Before I had time to even compute what I had just seen, I dropped the slithering creature in my hand back into the water and slammed the lid shut and took off running to call Joe…as if he could do something from an hour away.

After three attempts of calling, he finally answered.

He is a mental health therapist and usually when he doesn’t answer I know he is in a session. We have a deal that if I call more than twice that it deems I am in an emergency. Snake in washing machine=EMERGENGY, right ladies?

When he answered the phone, I know he was sure someone was dead. I was panicking and not making sense even to myself.

“Do I let it drown? How long can snakes live in water? Will it go down the drain and live? How do I get it out? Do I kill it if I get it out or let it go alive in the yard (that’s my biology major mind talking not my rational self talking)? You don’t believe me do you? Hang on I’m getting off the phone and gonna take a picture so you believe me.” Click.

Then it was as if it was me against the python in the washing machine, and I was not going to let it win. The moment reminded me of the time I took on Cujo in my driveway. (If you haven’t read about my brush with death in the face of Cujo…you might get a giggle out of that blog, too)

Tongs. I need tongs. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed my salad tongs out of the drawer. Definitely a ‘no.’ They aren’t long enough and could I ever eat salad from tongs that touched a snake?

Joe’s tongs for the grill.  They are long and the high heat of the grill will surely sanitize any snake germs (a real thought that went through my head)!!! I raced to that drawer and grabbed the grill tongs and a small tub and ran back to the laundry room.

I lifted the lid with high hopes that I would find a dead snake.

But as I reached the tongs into the water, the snake was more than alive. He was on race for his life. I finally grabbed a hold of the python and quickly threw it into the tub I had in my other hand.

Now what?

As I looked at the tiny snake coiled up in the tub I was holding, I immediately burst into a belly laugh.

With my heart rate at about 150 beats per minute, I was cracking up at how such a tiny creature was creating such a fear in me.

I carried the tub outside trying to decide what to do with it. Should I go buy a terrarium or release him into the yard (irrational thoughts of a former biology teacher) or should I kill him?

Before I did anything else I knew I needed a picture to take for Joe so he would believe my story.

I took several pictures and it was only when I began attaching a picture to the text that I noticed how HUGE and LIFE THREATENING the thing looked in the picture, because there was no object in the picture to give perspective.

Don’t get me wrong…my heart was still racing and my skin was still crawling as I continued to take pictures. The tiny thing was opening its mouth at me and sticking out its tongue and it might as well have been a huge python. . .

There was not really a decision to make. The thing must die!

So I grabbed a flower pot and raised it above my head to increase the chances of killing it with one blow.

I won.

I have taken on Cujo and won…this poor excuse for a snake did not stand a chance.

So I apologize to all the husbands who will now be doing the family laundry because I posted the snake picture on social media.  My husband got to be my hero simply by entering the “snake room” to finish the laundry.

I apologize to my husband and all my social media friends for withholding the perspective picture all day.  I didn’t intend to carry it on this long, but I was gone for the evening and am just getting a chance to write out the story to remember.

And I apologize to Jesus. I wish I got as fired up about my love for you as I do about my HATE for snakes.

Now to figure out where I can sleep tonight that is snake proof.  And how I can get away with never doing laundry again for the rest of my life.

Good night friends…may you all have snake free dreams.