An Unwelcome Visitor

Last week, I wrote to you about my little problem, which I am lovingly referring to as Major Problem these days.

In related news, last week, we had a much, much bigger problem.  I’m just now getting up the courage to write about it.  Bear with me, as I may need to do a few full-body shivers and look over my shoulder during this writing.

The cute, furry, little Major Problem showed up on Monday night. On Tuesday evening, at about 7:30pm, our doorbell rang. Our doorbell never rings. Everybody who knows us, all 3 of them, just come on in, and we rather prefer it that way.  We were on the couch watching T.V. Dinner was done. Family worship was done. Cheer was done. We were in veg mode.

Knowing Big Daddy works hard, I jumped up to answer the door. It was already dark outside, so I turned on the front porch light. I looked through the window adjacent to our door to see a young mother and her approximately 7-year-old son on our front porch holding, you guessed it, Major Problem.

I opened the door, smiled graciously and waited for the wooden scarecrow decoration which hangs from a wreath hanger on our front door to stop banging against the door.  I stood near the open, front door as I said hello to these lovely and gracious people, with whom I was about to get intimately acquainted, though neither of us knew it at the time.

*Shivering. Looking over shoulder.*

The Mom asked me if we had lost anything. The Son smiled and tried to wrangle Major Problem.

I stepped onto the porch, closed the front door behind me and stood about 3 inches in front of said door/scarecrow. I began to tell The Mom the story of how we got to know Major Problem. She smiled and listened, but I noticed that The Son began tugging on The Mom’s scrub top.  He pointed behind my head, and her eyes became like saucers.

*More shivering. More looking.*

The Mom said, “Don’t move quickly, but I am going to start backing up, and you need to walk with me.”

I freaked, having no idea what was going on. I grabbed her arm, and we took off. When we got to the driveway, she let me in on the secret: a 4-foot-long serpentine creature wrapped around the head of my scarecrow! It was 3 inches behind my head, y’all!

*Full-body shiver. Full 360 degree turn.*

To say that I freaked is like saying Twilight is a little teen movie. I flipped out. I started jumping up and down and shaking my head to clear my thoughts. I mean, I knew we lived in the country, but this is ridiculous!

The Mom said, “Have you turned your heater on? They are just looking for warm places. Last year we had one on our front door. It curved around and looked at me when I opened the front door one day.  They aren’t trying to hurt anything.”

What? Are you a nut? I thought. They don’t have to hurt me! They’ll make me hurt myself! I don’t care if they’re looking for some place warm! If they are, they need to return to the Pit from whence they came! Get thee behind me, Serpent!

I said, “No, and I’ve just made an executive decision that we won’t be using our heater all winter. Consider our house to be the North Pole from here on out. If you come to dinner, bring your parka! As a matter of fact, we won’t be living here any longer. You’ll see a moving truck here tomorrow!”

The Mom laughed at me as we tried to figure out what to do.  She gave me her phone so I could call Big Daddy. About this time, the Diva, not wanting to miss meeting new people, steps out the front door. The Mom, The Son, and I hold our breath.  Diva’s smiling and waving. I scream (I never scream) at her to come to me, but she’s so confused by my tone that she has no idea what to do. She begins to play with the cat, who is near the front door. More screaming. Finally, the normally obedient Diva ambles leisurely over to me, where she gets the what-for of her life prior to the hugest hug and an update on the situation.

She freaks.

We call Big Daddy, who comes (calmly and slowly…Big-Daddy-style) out through the garage, goes to the front door, sees our intruder, and says the following, very poetic word, “Huh.”

I scream, “Kill it! I want it dead! D-E-A-D! Do you hear me? I mean, I’m trying to fulfill Biblical prophecy here!”

Big Daddy is laughing and The Mom and The Son have gone to get The Dad. Big Daddy and The Dad are now both laughing.

Big Daddy unscrews the handle from his push broom, removes said visitor, and takes it across the street to the woods, where he RELEASES IT TO ITS OWN RECOGNIZANCE! Seriously? Are you nuts?

“It’s just a chicken snake,” he says. “They kill mice and rats and stuff. We need them around.”

“I don’t need them around!” I say.

He tries to hug me.

Uh, no. “You need to wipe your broom handle down with a Clorox wipe and go take a shower!” I say.  Duh! What was he thinking?

Before he goes to do my irrational bidding, Big Daddy calls my Dad, who talks me down.

My Dad tells my Mom, who calls to tell me that snakes are repelled by moth balls.

We’re expecting our truckload shipment of moth balls later this week. I’ll keep you updated.

When I said the cat was a Major Problem, I wasn’t kidding.

Unable to ever use my heater or front door again and living out Genesis 3:15,

AinW

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