Snake in the Pantry.
I kid you not.
Sunday night, I was getting ready for a bedtime snack of waffles (I know). I pulled out the waffle iron and then.....gasp:
See it? Look closer:
It was coiled up behind the waffle iron, on the knife sharpener. Scared the pee out of me.
I did what any self-respecting, capable and competent adult woman would do.
"Honey, there's a snake in the pantry. You have to get it out."
Y'all, my husband is a brave man. He really is. But....not so much in the snake department. Justin was, shall we say, a bit apprehensive about fetching the snake for me. My mother-in-law was there, and she also was completely useless. (I love you guys, I really do. Even if you are useless when there's a SNAKE IN THE PANTRY.)
I should clarify. Justin was willing to get the snake, but not in a manner that I was willing to endorse. He was all ready to get the hoe and start chopping, but I put my foot down. I will not, WILL NOT clean up snake blood from all over the inside of my pantry. I WILL NOT have hoe chops and blood stains on my new wood floor.
Hubby was less than enthusiastic about my proposal of BBQ tongs, so I was on my own.
Let me tell you, I got that bad boy. I was already in my bathrobe (see "bedtime" above), so I added boots and the one leather gardening glove that I could find:
(disclaimer: This picture is a reenactment, taken after the fact. Note the carefree laugh.)
I pinned him once with the tongs, but he wiggled out. He then proceeded to crawl all over the pantry, in and out of drawers, eventually settling in the corner behind the crock pot. When Justin pulled out the crock pot (with a ten foot pole), he coiled and hissed at us. Eventually I managed to pin him down with a drawer that I yanked out on his head and grabbed him with two pairs of tongs and threw him in the trash can. He was jumping around in there like crazy, trying to climb out, while I ran across the kitchen with the can, trying not to fall down in my cowboy boots. I kept knocking him back down with the tongs, and yelling "Open the door! Get out of my way! Open the door!" I threw the whole can out the back door, where the kitty Tiger took him down with relish.
Looking back, we probably could have killed it with a hoe without too much bloodshed. Maybe we'll try that next time.