No it wasn't pumpkins but I'm sure you'll be glad I spared you the photo of the "intruder". Yesterday morning, bright and early, I found a snake in the downstairs playroom. After screaming my lungs out while running to the top of the stairs with Morgan in my arms, I realized I had to go back down and figure out what the hell I was going to do! After trying to compose myself and remembering to breath (heart attacks run in my family), I found a heavy car battery charger and threw it several times on the sucker. My screams intensified with each hit yet it kept squirming away apparently unharmed. Next I called my friend Jen who found a neighbor who could help me. Dan and his wife Pam (angels) arrived with gloves, a towel, and a hammer. You might imagine what happened next. I cried as though I just survived a natural disaster.
Word quickly circulated around the neighborhood. One friend joked that her children would no longer be playing at our house and - as if I wasn't already creeped out - another told me that when there's one .....there's always another.
Jason seriously needs to come home! I needed a drink and a throat lozenger by 10am. Please pray that this never happens again or a heart attack may do me in!
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