Ssssay, where do you keep the sssspoons?

In my quest to further my status as a quasi-adult, I have taken to getting up a bit earlier in the mornings. Nothing crazy. Just enough time that I don’t have to brush my teeth while I am trying to water the dogs, pack my bag and find my wallet. Everyone needs some quiet oral hygiene time to start their day out right.

Anyway, yesterday I was buzzing around the house, trying to grab something nutritious and sensible for lunch. I grabbed a frozen veggie number out of the freezer and went for a fork in the utensil drawer. I felt the drawer catch a bit, as if it were off the runner. Odd. And then…. hissssss. A gray reptilian head with a forked tongue was HISSING AT ME. FROM MY UTENSIL DRAWER.

Did I scream? No. Instead, I aborted the fork mission and herded Amy outside. Deathly afraid of snakes, she is. And then… we left. For work. With a snake in our utensil drawer.

The scene on the ride to work:
Kik: I am really worried about leaving the dogs. Do you think they will be okay?
Amy: Aaauuuuggggghhhh.
Kik: I mean, it looked like a garden snake, and it was small. But…
Amy: A-a-a-ahhhhhhhh. There is a snake in our house. Eh-eh-eh-auuuugggghhh.
Kik: Did your dad say he could come look for it? Do you think he would check on the dogs?
Amy: Aahhhh. Let’s just board up the house. We can’t go back there. They have infiltrated! Ehhhhh. Aaaahhhhhhh.
Kik: It might just leave on its own.
Amy: How can I ever trust anything again? Everything I believed was a lie. The snakes have infiltrated our house. Is nothing sacred??? Auuuuggghhhhh.
Kik: If you make that aaaauuuuggghhh, noise again, I am going to kick your ass.

So, yesterday there was much speculation about Ssssir Sssnake and his whereabouts. Amy’s dad and cousin came over to bravely flush out the snake. To no avail. Amy’s dad called all day with helpful hints: Snakes don’t like moth balls. Snakes don’t like loud noises either, apparently. Who knew?

Our friend, Hank, was the last of the Snake Hunters to bravely offer his services. He looked through every cabinet in our kitchen. No snake. Of course, Amy and Kate (his wife) had to be banished to the living room for shrieking every time he stuck his hand in a drawer… I guess for fear he would draw back a bloody nub with a snake attached to it? Alas, Hank’s ultimate verdict was that the snake is gone.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Amy has arranged a Wiccan House Cleansing to rid us of the evil of the snake. After all, as Amy noted yesterday, it was pretty much like Satan had been found in the utensil drawer.

Sssomebody pass me a ssspoon.

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2 Comments on “Ssssay, where do you keep the sssspoons?”

  1. Amy Says:

    AAAaaaaaahhhhhh (shiver).

  2. Miss Kris Says:

    Aaaaahahahaha! That is a great story! The joys of living in Florida…

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