As Christina played with Ellery, I went to the kitchen to grab what I call a "power snack" (which is a much cooler way of saying 'peanut butter and jelly sandwich) when I noticed that part of the surface of the stove was moving. A moment later, comprehension fell on me with all the force of a piano on a cartoon character:
It was a snake.
A snake in my home.
On a thing where I usually put food.
Staring me down and spitting its forked tongue at me.
Adrenaline flooded my bloodstream.* My muscles tensed. A trickle of sweat formed on my brow. My mouth went dry.
I was face-to-face with a demon that has been the bane of humankind since the days of Adam. It slithered, slithered in the most snaky way, behind our sugar container, where it began to plot my demise. It was then that I understood my true purpose in life. I knew then why I had been put on this earth:
I was destined to destroy this snake.
Yes, like one of the heroes of old, I too must vanquish a fearsome beast. Just as Beowulf slew Grendel, just as Bard slew Smaug, I must slay this veritable Beelzebub of evil.
I must kill the snake.
I quickly began to assess my environment for my weapon of choice. Perhaps a knife? The knives were a wedding present from Phil and Jamie Van Horn. Little did they know their gifts would prove to save the lives of myself and my family. Yes, a knife would decapitate the monster and send it to snake hell. Which, I assume, is just regular hell. But alas, what if the snake should sprout two heads where the one had once been? After all, that was Hercules' blunder when he fought and nearly lost to the Hydra. A different tactic would be more prudent.
Instead, I seized upon one of our magic weapons in our utensil caddy: metal tongs.
 |
| One of the tongs of glory. |
But I had not just one tong, but two! Surely, even a beast such as this would not expect his opponent to dual-wield metal tongs. What devil would be prepared for an onslaught such as this?
But at the critical moment, when victory seemed at hand, the snake launched its surprise assault. From behind its sugar-container-lair, it emerged and rose up, high into the air, and spit its tongue furiously in my general direction. I came at it with the tongs, but with a hiss of fury, it bobbed and weaved with an agility that would make Emmett Smith envious. It darted back across my stove and dived for the space between the counter and the refrigerator. I seized it by the tail, but with a mighty wrench, it sprung free. Pulling the refrigerator out, I glimpsed its tail as it disappeared down the hole from which our water pipe reaches the refrigerator.
You win this time, snake.
.....but the battle was not over.
Yesterday afternoon I returned home from a day of district in-service. I picked up my daughter from the babysitter and immediately began attending to a number of household chores. I began to tackle the mountain of dishes that required some hand washing when out of the depths of the sink leapt THE DEMONIC SNAKE!
SWEET BUTTER CRUMPET!! IT WAS IN THE SINK!! IT'S RIGHT BY MY HAND!!
I let forth my mighty war cry (it was not, I repeat, NOT a girlish shriek) and forced the snake back to its sugary sanctuary. But I was filled with sudden doubt. I had lost in my first encounter. How could I possibly prevail? I began to question my ability to win this engagement. I felt like how The Little Giants probably felt at halftime.
Then, a sense of calm, a sense of peace, began to course through me. And the ghostly spectre of my father** come to me in a vision:
"Tape can solve almost any problem, son."
Immediately, I knew what I must do.
I went to the Junk Drawer of Champions and removed the single greatest weapon of all: clear plastic packing tape. I set about removing long strips of the adhesive and bending it back on itself to make it double-sided. I set about to encircle my slithery Satan. There would be no escape this time!
Calmly, I removed the sugar container. The snake, sensing danger, immediately sought its refrigerator escape, but NO! The trap had caught it! With a mighty hiss, it reared up and thrashed about! Slamming the counter and entrapping itself further, it hissed, and it spat. The tape began to smother its movements as its fury proved fruitless. It was like something out of the Book of Revelation. I let out a mighty roar and began to contemplate how I would destroy it.
But as I stared at the snake, the snake stared back. I was struck by just how big its eyes are. That is not something that had ever occurred to me before...that snakes could have big eyes. Almost like Disney eyes. It seemed...almost....almost human.
And so I decided: there would be no sweet dose of murder for Snaky Snake (I had named it in my head by this point). No. It had been a worthy opponent. An honorable opponent. And when the flag of surrender had been flown, there was no point in continuing on with my hatred. What was done was done.
I journeyed with the snake to a far away land where I released it into the wild. Mind you, removing three feet of tape from a live snake is a bit dicey when you're doing all you can not to actually TOUCH the thing (we're not friends or anything). But eventually I succeeded and bid it farewell. Perhaps one day it will have children. And tell them of the great battle it had once fought against me. And those children will tell their children until generations later, one of my own offspring comes face-to-face with a descendant of that first snake...
...in which case I hope he or she really does kill the thing. Seriously? Trying to get BACK into the house? That's just stupid.
*someone check the science of that sentence for me.
**my father is very much alive. "Ghostly spectre" just sounded cool to me.
