I have been shopping and readying my house for the almost 30-ish people that will be here this weekend (17 people, including me, my husband and our children, of course, will be sleeping here at Casa de Chaos) in celebration of my 8-year old son's First Communion this Saturday. Of course, I am so proud of my boy, and excited for this milestone, but excitement doesn't clean this house. Or dust this furniture. Or change bedsheets. Or shop for groceries. Those jobs are all mine. (And Bill's. Heaven forbid I leave him out of all the excitement.)
As I was down the basement storage area this afternoon getting extra chairs, tables and tablecloths, I died.
I literally saw the light and lived to tell of it.
All because of a snake down my basement.
A water moccasin to be exact. I think. Kind of.
Well, it was at least a highly venomous snake and had large pointy fangs sprouting forth from its triangular-shaped head.
As I was reaching into a box of kitchen stuff, I saw the offender lying in wait. Its scales were shiny, and it was perched on top of a corrugated cardboard lid, mocking me with its tongue and ready to pounce. I swear I heard it say, "Come and get me. I dare you." In the split second between noticing the snake, and screaming my ever-loving head clear off my body, my heart leapt forth my chest, danced around the concrete floor of the basement, and had about ten thousand mini heart attacks, followed by THE BIG ONE.
So this is how it was going to end. It's been real. Nice knowing you, Earth.
Then. Then. Then.
I realized that the snake wasn't moving, because guess what?
Rubber doesn't move, you guys.
Unless, of course, it is wrapped around the wheel of a car. Or in ball form. Yes, the scariest thing I have ever seen with my own two peepers was entirely manmade. As in made by MAN. Not nature.
Boys. You would think by now I would be jaded. I have seen more life-like rubber rats and spiders at this house before, and none of them have ever fazed me in the slightest.
But now this. It has been a long day. Perhaps if I wasn't so preoccupied with finding my beverage tub, or flatware holder, or whatever the heck else made me momentarily lose my precious sanity, I would have thought, "You know what, Clare? That thing is rubber. And besides that, water moccasins don't live in basements of Midwestern states." But no. This is what rushing around does to a person.
I have been foiled again. FOILED. AGAIN.
Clearly, I am losing it. The universe is telling me to slow my roll.
I need to chill out.
At least my kids were amused. I am always glad to be of service for their laughing needs, even if my own heart has just returned to my chest and started to beat at a normal rate once again.