By Almost a Foot

Last week after returning from a trip up to the "Hill" in Arkansas for a wonderful visit with my best friend B (and a quick trip to my miracle stylist), I picked up D-Man from my parents and brought him home for a quick rejuvenation nap.

As he lay in bed dreaming those 2 year old sweet dreams, I proceed to unload the car. As I carry a load in and turn back around to step down the 2 steps into the garage, my eyes fix upon something shiny, black and squirmy about a foot from my SUV. Yep, you guessed it, I had almost stepped on a snake who has hanging out next to my car inside the closed garage in the middle of a cold fall day. And, ladies and gentlemen, I was barefoot (yes, that means that if I had stepped down from my car much farther, I would have stepped directly on the pesky creature).

Well, what's a girl to do, but call her mom and tell her about the snake (and remind her how much they freak her out). Then, upon mom's advice, I proceed to call little brother (I'll call him Gator) to ask for help. Gator is so sweet and kind to his older (and more wiser) sister by advising her to stick her finger under the refrigerator (yes, the snake had moved under the garage refrigerator) and wiggle it at the snake and he would surely come out. Love, that is real brotherly love folks!

So, there I was, tears streaming down my face, as I did what any woman would have to do in this situation: call her husband at work and ask him to race home and save his scaredy-cat wife. He raced home (my hero) and heaved (maybe just scooted) the refrigerator out of the way to destroy that which had frightened his wife. Was the snake there? Why no! Where had he gone? Oh how I wish I knew! Husband could not locate the snake, nor could he tarry all afternoon searching for it, so he left everything a wreck, backed my SUV out of the garage and returned to work. And no, 5 days later there is still no sign of him.

My husband asked me later about the whole situation and I decided in order to make myself feel better about the everything that I would tell him that I was really testing his love for me (sounded good, right?) He didn't buy it, nor did he deny it (his love for me that is) and we have once again returned to life as normal. I have to admit, though, I don't walk past the refrigerator (or past anything in the garage for that matter) without watching my step.