I know it’s illegal but …
I killed a snake.
There, I said it. Come arrest me now because I am guilty.
Hang on just a second there before you fire off all those “snakes are good” letters. I challenge all you snake-killer haters to react calmly and not kill or seriously injure an uninvited slithering house guest just hanging out on your laundry room floor.
My guess is most of you red-blooded Americans would react just like I did — scream and slam the door.
But after my initial freak out, reality sank in and I realized that if I didn’t do something immediately, the snake would continue his journey into the depths of my house and probably resurface some day in another inopportune moment.
So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I found a knife, a paring knife to be exact (not my most brilliant decision). I slowly opened the door and breathed a sigh of relief when the unwelcome reptile still was there.
Bending down carefully, I tried to inflict mortal pain on the lethargic snake. It took two stabs before the apparently annoyed snake noticed me. But when he turned his head toward me and mockingly stuck his tongue out, I lost it. I turned and grabbed the closest, biggest thing to me (a mostly empty bleach bottle) and swung away to save my life.
After a while, the snake succumbed to my attempts to kill him, and I left the carnage for Matt to clean up. (It was the least he could do.)
Looking back on my actions, I sound a little harsh. But I believe they were justified.
Physically the snake did no harm (besides elevating my blood pressure), but mentally, I’ve not been the same (you can stop laughing now!).
Because now every time I turn on a light, I envision a giant black snack coiled up, rocking its head back and forth, hissing. It’s not good. I’m hoping some day I won’t have to look down the toilet searching for snakes on my ascension to the porcelain throne.
So the snake paid his dues, and I’m paying mine.
I hoped the snake was just lost and not one of many living near and/or with me. But I got a phone call at work the other day.
Matt said Rylan told him he found “a worm” in the laundry room.
My name is Ginia Oehlschlager and I'm a small-town gal from Missouri. Join me as I document my crazy life on the farm with my husband and four kids. I'm always looking for frugal, simple ways to live the life God set before me. Where faith, family and fun come together on the farm.