A Snake in the House {More Specifically: My Kitchen}

Saturday afternoon was your typical sort of humid day in the South.  The air was thick, but then a sudden storm brought wind & rain.  As the pitter-patter of raindrops began to yield, the pitter-patter of little feet entered the kitchen and requested a popsicle.  It was 4:15 pm… as Ellie ate her frozen cherry treat at the kitchen table, Coach & I worked on our vacation checklist.  But suddenly, Ellie let out a blood curdling scream.  A scream that confused me until I looked in the direction where she was pointing.

“Holy Shit… it’s a SNAKE!”

I immediately jumped on top of the counter as Coach leaped from his chair.  I could feel my stomach contents churning, but decided {as a mother} that I ought to rescue Ellie who was now screaming from the window sill.  I grabbed her & we returned to take our seats next to the coffee pot.  ”You’ve got it get it out,” I said to Coach.  I can trap mice with a casserole dish and rubber gloves, but I DON’T do snakes.

As the snake gazed at its reflection in the metal dog dish, Coach retrieved his gardening gloves.  Yes, this brave man was about to pick up the snake WITH HIS HANDS.  He reached down, picked up the snake by the tail, but it coiled to attack, and through our screams the snake went flying through the kitchen and landed with a thud.  It quickly slithered under the refrigerator.

“Okay, let’s think…” said Coach.  ”What can we use to get the snake out?”  {As Coach pondered this question, I retreated to the living room with Ellie and updated my Facebook status & tweeted to the world.}  First, we tried using a yard stick, but it was too thick.  Next, Coach took apart a metal coat hanger and tried to poke the snake out.  That jerk snake WOULD NOT BUDGE.  Then before you know it, the light bulb went off.

“I need you to keep eyes on the snake.  I have an idea,” he said as he walked outside to the garage.  A moment later, he was standing in the door way with…

a LEAF BLOWER.

“Are you serious?” I asked.  He was very serious and I suggested that he have a plan to catch it in something when it came slithering back out.  I handed him a Scholastic book box & a pair of kitchen tongs as he fired up the blower.  Ellie and I returned to our post and as he blew underneath the refrigerator, six years of dust bunnies came parachuting over the top of the refrigerator.  BUT, it worked and after a few click-clicks of the tongs that jerk snake was in the box.

I am praying that the snake, who returned to the driveway on Sunday afternoon, will get eaten by a rogue Mongoose in our woods.  Stay away, snake… or the next time we won’t be so kind.  Forget the kitchen tongs… you’ll get a shish-kebob to the throat.