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Yesterday morning, I got attacked by an amazingly big, giant snake.
...
I'm just gonna let that sink in.
*nods* I KNOW. Horrifying, isn't it?
Because I tend to be a bit on the dramatic side, maybe I should clarify. When I use the word 'attacked' what I mean to say is that we were both in the same area, and I was supposed to be there and the snake wasn't.
Nolan and Aaron had gone to the grocery store to get all the stuff for Father's day dinner - the fajitas were YUM, as a sidenote - and that left Ethan and I to be little whirling dervishes cleaning the house. I got a wild hair and decided to rearrange the living room (do other people do that, too?), and Ethan helped. Since we moved everything, it had to be dusted, so when I took the runner off the antique library table, I decided to step out the front door and shake it out.
BIG. MISTAKE.
I did, and as I was doing so, One of my flower pots moved. Naturally, we're on the very edge of town, and y'all know my relationship with woodland creatures; I was thinking perhaps... a rabbit. Or worse, frog. Or the very worst, Horned toad.
NO. NO. I WISH.
This thing was at LEAST two inches around and probably five and a half feet long. Nolan thinks I'm exaggerating, BUT I SWEAR ON A STACK OF BIBLES THAT I AM TELLING THE TRUTH.
Now, on any given day, I'm a low key sort of girl. I don't get excited. Ask Nolan. He purposely does things to provoke me just to get any reaction at all. But upon seeing this great big nasty snake on my front porch, a heretofore snake free zone, I did what any other girly girl in my position would have done.
I screamed bloody murder.
This drew Ethan over to see what I was screaming at, and to his credit, he only made an "Aaaaaah!' sound, moved me bodily back into the house and shut the front door.
Saved by a nine year old. Thank GOD for Ethan. Then he looks at me so very seriously and asks, "Do I need to go get the shovel?"
Suffice it to say, I responded with a negative on that. (It actually went something like, "NOIDON'TWANTYOUTOGETA SHOVELSTAYINTHEHOUSEOHMYGOSHCRAPASNAKE!!!!") We then tracked the snake's progress along the front flower beds from the safety of the inside of the house. Me intermittently shivering and screaming and Ethan exclaiming, "That thing is HUGE!" He asked me if he could use the "C" word and I acquiesced. That was a "holy crap" moment if I ever had one.
I guess the snake got tired of hearing me scream (which was bound to be loud, even from the outside), and slithered away to the other side of the street, where there's tall grasses and wildflowers, and evidently fantastic cover for freaking HUGE snakes.
So that's it. (I didn't get attacked. Sue me.) Nolan doesn't believe me, he said that there was no way it was that big, and seemed a little irritated that I didn't know what sort of snake it was. Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Boy Scout, I didn't feel like going over and shaking hands and getting acquainted, you know what I mean? It was a SNAKE. I am a CARRIE. These things DO NOT MIX.
The worst part is that now I know the Basilisk lives across the street. And I keep peeking through the windows before I answer the door.
Pfft. Living in fear and disgust at the creatures around me. Seems to be my lot in life, it does.
Lastly, and these two things are in no way related, my parents took Ethan and Aaron home with them this morning until Friday. So I'm freeeeeeeee! FREEEEEEEE! *flails* Keep the adults in your prayers over the next couple of days. They're gonna need it. ;)
...
I'm just gonna let that sink in.
*nods* I KNOW. Horrifying, isn't it?
Because I tend to be a bit on the dramatic side, maybe I should clarify. When I use the word 'attacked' what I mean to say is that we were both in the same area, and I was supposed to be there and the snake wasn't.
Nolan and Aaron had gone to the grocery store to get all the stuff for Father's day dinner - the fajitas were YUM, as a sidenote - and that left Ethan and I to be little whirling dervishes cleaning the house. I got a wild hair and decided to rearrange the living room (do other people do that, too?), and Ethan helped. Since we moved everything, it had to be dusted, so when I took the runner off the antique library table, I decided to step out the front door and shake it out.
BIG. MISTAKE.
I did, and as I was doing so, One of my flower pots moved. Naturally, we're on the very edge of town, and y'all know my relationship with woodland creatures; I was thinking perhaps... a rabbit. Or worse, frog. Or the very worst, Horned toad.
NO. NO. I WISH.
This thing was at LEAST two inches around and probably five and a half feet long. Nolan thinks I'm exaggerating, BUT I SWEAR ON A STACK OF BIBLES THAT I AM TELLING THE TRUTH.
Now, on any given day, I'm a low key sort of girl. I don't get excited. Ask Nolan. He purposely does things to provoke me just to get any reaction at all. But upon seeing this great big nasty snake on my front porch, a heretofore snake free zone, I did what any other girly girl in my position would have done.
I screamed bloody murder.
This drew Ethan over to see what I was screaming at, and to his credit, he only made an "Aaaaaah!' sound, moved me bodily back into the house and shut the front door.
Saved by a nine year old. Thank GOD for Ethan. Then he looks at me so very seriously and asks, "Do I need to go get the shovel?"
Suffice it to say, I responded with a negative on that. (It actually went something like, "NOIDON'TWANTYOUTOGETA SHOVELSTAYINTHEHOUSEOHMYGOSHCRAPASNAKE!!!!") We then tracked the snake's progress along the front flower beds from the safety of the inside of the house. Me intermittently shivering and screaming and Ethan exclaiming, "That thing is HUGE!" He asked me if he could use the "C" word and I acquiesced. That was a "holy crap" moment if I ever had one.
I guess the snake got tired of hearing me scream (which was bound to be loud, even from the outside), and slithered away to the other side of the street, where there's tall grasses and wildflowers, and evidently fantastic cover for freaking HUGE snakes.
So that's it. (I didn't get attacked. Sue me.) Nolan doesn't believe me, he said that there was no way it was that big, and seemed a little irritated that I didn't know what sort of snake it was. Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Boy Scout, I didn't feel like going over and shaking hands and getting acquainted, you know what I mean? It was a SNAKE. I am a CARRIE. These things DO NOT MIX.
The worst part is that now I know the Basilisk lives across the street. And I keep peeking through the windows before I answer the door.
Pfft. Living in fear and disgust at the creatures around me. Seems to be my lot in life, it does.
Lastly, and these two things are in no way related, my parents took Ethan and Aaron home with them this morning until Friday. So I'm freeeeeeeee! FREEEEEEEE! *flails* Keep the adults in your prayers over the next couple of days. They're gonna need it. ;)