I’ve shared that this week is dedicated to getting the house to the point where the bug-man can come in and spray. While I would love to get the house to the point of perfection so that there is no embarrassment as he enters any-old-room, I’m a slob, and so that just isn’t something I can achieve in less than a week. So I’m depending on survival techniques.
In this situation, I define survival techniques as getting the edges of the rooms cleared and making them look presentable, not great . . . but not shocking.
But the problem with survival techniques is that if life throws you a curve-ball, they don’t work.
And last Saturday, my husband brought a metaphorical pitching machine into the house.
Heebie-jeebie alert. Be warned that if you keep reading, you may get the shivers.
Meet Chuck.
Chuck the Chicken Snake.
I feel incredibly blessed to have two boys. I love everything about them, and thoroughly enjoy that they live their lives with gusto. Our house is rarely quiet, and never still.
My passion that I should allow them to be boys is one of the things my husband loves about me. He loves that I made a cage for the gecko they caught last year and had the idea of spreading jelly on a stick to catch ants for it to eat.
This is what gave him the bizarre idea that I would be okay with them bringing Chuck home. I didn’t scream when they brought him in, and tried to be happy that they had had this experience. It didn’t sink in that he was already considered a pet until it was too late. I’d had my chance to scream, and when I didn’t . . . that was taken as acceptance.
OK, now to bring what seems like two completely different stories together.
Chuck had been living in a very secure, yet very cramped Tupperware container (with holes poked in the lid) for a few days. Yesterday, someone at my husband’s work gave us a nice, big, glass aquarium.
An aquarium without a lid.
My husband came up with a temporary solution of covering the aquarium with a laundry-bag held onto the top by lots of clothespins, fastened on all around the top, each less than a centimeter apart. I, thinking that surely snakes couldn’t slither UP a glass wall anyway, trusted that this was a good solution.
And being a boy-loving-mama, I rejoiced with everyone that Chuck finally had room to stretch his, ummm, well . . . himself.
Daddy left to go to a meeting, we all sat around and looked at Chuck (since that’s all there is to do with a snake), and then left the room to watch an episode of I Love Lucy before bedtime.
After the show was over, the boys went to their room, and came back out with saucer-like eyes.
Chuck . . . was gone.
Brave-and-Boy-Loving-Mama’s heart sped up, but as the only in-house parent at the time, decided to go look, thinking that surely he had crawled under something and was hiding.
But he wasn’t there.
And then I saw that in one little corner of the top, about 6 clothespins had been pushed off.
I glanced around, though not very carefully, and went to call my husband. Meeting or no meeting, I didn’t care. He couldn’t come straight home, so my snake-loving boys decided to go to sleep in their sister’s room as long as I shoved a towel against the bottom of the door.
As I waited for my husband, my main frustration, other than being freaked out, was that I had just cleaned (OK, sort-of-cleaned) that room. All of the edges were fine, but the bookshelves were awful and under the bed was an atrocity. If we had to tear apart the room looking for Chuck, I’d be stuck working in there for another day. Another day when I needed to be survival-cleaning my own master bedroom and my daughter’s room.
If the room was thoroughly cleaned, a snake would be easier to find. “Look under the bed” would be the extent of it. Not look under the bed and pull out all of the stuff that the snake could be hiding behind.
Thankfully, it didn’t end as badly as I feared. Hubby looked behind all of the things I was afraid to look behind, and just as we were getting to the point of pulling out everything in sight, I suggested that he lift up a shelf that had a little space underneath it. No, Chuck wasn’t under the shelf, but we heard a little something. I looked up and thought, hmmm, I don’t remember the boys putting a snake skin on their deer-skull (see how much I’m willing to celebrate boy-ness?), and then my husband looked behind the hanging skull and there was Chuck.
He had crawled UP THE WALL and hidden inside the skull.
Blachaaaaahhhh! That’s the only way I can think of to spell the sound that is the result of the heebie-jeebies I’m feeling right now just thinking of it.
I’m hoping that snake-finding will not continue to be a motivation for me as I clean my house, but I know there are many other unexpecteds that should be my motivation.
Ew.
EW
EEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWW.
(me running screaming from the room…)
He CRAWLED UP THE WALL???? I didnt know snakes could do that. Gives me the heebeee geeebeees!
I also celebrate by boy's boyness – but that would have put me right over the edge. They need to appreciate my mommy-ness too.
GET A LID FOR YOUR AQUARIUM! Wood. With a brick on top. Maybe two.
My greatest fear is snakes. Any bad dream I have involves snakes. You are a brave, brave women.
I ditto Jennifer on the wood and brick.
You are a better woman than I. Is the snake back in tupperware?
Elissa, Yes, he's back in Tupperware.
Absentminded mother, I hope this post doesn't give you nightmares.
And Jennifer, yes he CRAWLED UP THE WALL!!! I was totally shocked, and that's why I showed that picture so you could see that there was nothing for him TO CRAWL ON!!!
He will stay in the Tupperware until I'm completely satisfied with a new lid.
Oh, what a funny story. Yes, it gave me the heebie jeebies but it also made me laugh out loud!
Blech – you are without a doubt a better woman than I. There is no way – and I mean NO WAY – I'd be able to do the snake thing. Thank goodness you found him. Yikes. I once worked at a place that ended up infested with snakes – you could see them slither over the drop ceiling fluorescent light panels. I lasted less than a day.
OMG!!! I have a serious case of the heebie jeebies right now, after seeing those pictures and reading your post – ewwww! You are a braver woman than I – I couldn't do it. Hamster – yes. Snake – no. No way!
Up the wall? I'm just glad you found him.
Ew. Ew. Ewwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!! No snakes. No. no. no. Not in a tank. Not in a skull. Not in a bowl.
I think my eyes were as big as saucers reading this post. I love being a "boy mama" — although my son is still too young to be bring home snakes — but I'm sure he'll bring me stuff like that someday! You're a brave woman to allow that snake in your house still!
My oldest is snake-obsessed, but we haven't brought one into the house yet because every care manual I read says they are TOTAL escape artists. I'm not hugely afraid of snakes, particularly smaller ones–in fact, I think Chuck's kind of cute–but I don't want to stumble upon one under the couch or wonder if it's about to hang from the rafters. I applaud your giving him a home, though! My son is going to want to relocate!
Not all boys are like yours. My son is terrified of snakes. And he is almost 15. We couldn't take him to see Prince of Persia because in reading up on it to make sure it wasn't too inappropriate for him (with a PG-13 rating), there was a lot of snake violence and he refused to go. Because I know you, be warned that we will not be entering your home until Chuck is gone! I am very proud of you, though. Not proud at all of your husband, and since I know him that is ok for me to say!
EWWW!
I used to volunteer at a nature and science center. One of my jobs was to do talks to small groups about particular animals while holding an example of that animal. My usual was owls (with a Great-Horned, who was impressive) but I also did snakes. I found out VERY quickly that I had to tell the audience what I had brought to show them _before_ I pulled the snake out. People run either hot or cold about snakes — either they are fascinated (like me) or terrified — there are very few in the middle. I’d welcome a snake to eat the bugs in my house (no calling the bug man.) But then I’m the one that feels guilty for killing the black snakes that eat my chickens’ eggs.
The nature center kept their demonstration snakes in low flat boxes like those under your bed, with holes drilled in for ventilation, and newspaper to crawl under.
Doesn’t surprise me in the least. That’s why our ball python lives in an actual herpetarium with a lock down front – anything less, and I’d be hunting through the house myself – and I’m nowhere near as far along on my deslobification. I’m fine with snakes (somewhat less fine with the frozen rats in the freezer, but I’m learning to live with it), but I do want to know where he is!
Reading your blog from the beginning, as suggested, and enjoying it immensely. I’m about month in to trying to get my house under control – it’s improved, a little, but there’s a very long way to go yet. You give me hope.
Welcome!! And I would have had to draw the line at frozen rats!
Why o why did I read this at bedtime?
Hahahaha! Sorry!
Me too!
Yuck!! I have two boys, one 26 and the other 14 years old. I absolutely drew the line at rodents or reptiles for pets! Things that exterminators are paid to well, exterminate, are not meant to be pets as far as I’m concerned! Besides that, I would have to move!!
Locking lid is the inly answer! My son has two corn snakes. I am not fearful of critters but can be jumpy when surprised. Before the locking lid, medusa and nagini escaped no matter what weight I placed on the lid. Nagini was gone for two days. I nearly stepped on her at midnight as she stretched across the top stair. Medusa was harder to find. She was dark red and black where Nagini is an albino snake. I cleaned every inch if his room. I looked everywhere and was starting to look in other rooms. I went to hang a shirt in his closet and decided to take the duffle suitcase to the garage. I did my standard sweep to look for left behind clothing. I found socks in one compartment. Then without looking, I swept my hand UNDER the flat panel at the bottom of the case. I pulled out my find in one swift motion. What I thought was a forgotton belt…was not. I had grabbed 5 feet of snake and unknowingly pulled it from hiding like crocadile dundee withput a clue. I dont know what was more startling. The swift grab or my scream. I quickly deposited it in the cage and drove to the pet store for a locking lid. They have not escaped since.
My hubby had a boa when we first got married. He gave it away (to a group through the Pittsburgh zoo) before my first baby was born. His snake would get out even w/ a slide lid on the aquarium. I held it once but really did not like the feeling of it moving around my hands. They are really cool to watch eat tho. I couldn’t go to bed knowing it was loose in the house.
AGH! Mom of two boys. One just put the same skull-mount deer on his wall yesterday. Freaks me out!
I always said ‘snakes over spiders’, but now that I know they can climb walls… no way, no how!!!
Oh dana. That is so funny. As a mom of 3 boys I feel you. I’ll look in the attic and see if we have a lid. I had a large aquarium at school for the class gecko. ( FYI… heat rocks can cause burns to the skin so use a heat lamp.)
I’ll be happy to to declutter on my end and sell you the perfect enclosure for your climbing snake friend…. It’s made by Exo Terra- it’s a 65 gallon Flexarium and waterproof Flexitray for the bottom… It weighs next to nothing- its all fabric mesh with a plastic frame and a zips securely shut on ALL sides! It’s advertised as ESCAPE PROOF! LoL
Sadly/thankfully, Chuck lives back in the great outdoors now!
I’ve been reading your blog from the beginning the last several days, wishing you lived in my McKinney, TX neighborhood. I’d invite you over–to sit OUTSIDE on the patio.
I so relate to your cleaning for the bug man situation that I had to write you with my own story. I have had to postpone many a cable man, bug man, plumber, electrician, etc visit due to the state of my home. One particularly humiliating time, we had an annoying carbon monoxide alarm beeping incessantly for days before I finally could stand it no more and called the man to come replace the battery. I BEGGED them to walk me through the process. “Just put your guy on the line and he can walk me through it like Dr Webber walked Izzy through drilling holes in the guy’s brain on Grey’s Anatomy. No? Really? This is just a battery, how hard can it be?!? ” So the guy comes to the house and I am DYING inside. Humiliated beyond belief, I realize he isn’t just seeing the main rooms which looked like a Hoarder’s episode, but he wants to go IN MY CLOSET. That meant seeing my “junk room”, my filthy master bath and my closet. I was sweaty and hysterical at the thought, but thought, he’s here and I cannot stand the beeping. So after he does his thing and is about to leave, he says nothing about the horrific condition of all the rooms to my relief. His only comment as he was closing my front door was how unusual it was to see a Christmas tree up in APRIL. I blamed it on my poor children not wanting Christmas to be over and slammed the door shut. SIGH. I actually had not taken the tree down and moved it to the garage for FOUR months. Not my best moment.
Your blog is an inspiration. Thank you for sharing!!
My brothers brought snakes home all the time when I was a kid. I remember telling my brother his pet got out. Turned out it was right above me. I can look at them in pictures, but that’s about it.
Oh, Nony, you are a pillar a mung slob mamas! I have a phobia of snakes. I have tried to not pass it along to my children. I take them into the reptile houses at places. Unfortunately if it is a big reptile house I end up light headed with the shakes. I think spiderman would have nothing on me if my son or daughter brought home a snake.
Lmbo. ..I’m picturing you (or rather a very scared female) hands and feet holding on to the ceiling for dear life! Best response ever spider woman! !
Yes, I would look much like the black cat in the looney tunes cartoon!
O. My. Word.
I seriously read this WITHOUT breathing in total panick FOR YOU. I know your horror. Mine have brought home a Bearded Dragon, African Scorpion, and a tarantula.
I did cave at the large spider and declare it was a me or the 8-legged freak deal breaker. Boys, I hear if we survive till they become adults we can repay these experiences by sugaring up the grandkids…….
Seriously, don’t know if my heart can hold out that long!!
I just HAD to share. I am a mother to a son also. Now before i go on, let me tell you how MY fear of snakes was so bad that if they were on tv even i would hide my eyes and keeping asking, “is it over yet?!” I also would jump and scream when my so called loved ones would throw a plastic toy snake at me…and yes, this happened multiple times because i have cruel, cruel loved ones! Now, to continue, my son went through the lizard, rodent and bird stage. When he got snakes (yes that’s plural) I did my best to be a good mother. I learned to go with it. Fast forward to my daughter. They are 15 years apart. ..I’m done now right? After all she’s a girl! Pretty dresses, sparkly shoes and cute purses, RIGHT?! Oh i should have known better when she started riding her bike in those pretty dresses and sparkly shoes, sometimes even carrying a cute purse! My oh so loving son (now a grown man with his own house) gives his little sister a snake for her birthday and this little brat…um darling. ..LOVES IT! She is stoked, me not so much. You guessed it…that slithering, slimy, smart snake escaped! I should have called her brother to come find it lol but thankfully my male friend found it, after i refused to stay the night in my own house. After that you better believe that cage had books, stacked two high, on every inch of that lid!! I guess i have to wait for payback because my precious, gorgeous granddaughter also loves snakes. Who could imagine that MY ten year old daughter and 3 year old granddaughter would be so brave?!
Have to share…just weeks after I found your blog and was loving the permission to have Laundry Day, one Sunday night a blood-curdling scream rose from the basement after I sent a child down to get something from the dryer. (We were preparing for Laundry Day the next morning.) Screaming Child came darting up the stairs with wild eyes: “THERE’S A SNAKE ON TOP OF THE DRYER!!!!” Ahem.
I sent Hubby and Warrior Daughter–who’s not afraid of creepy critters–down to save us. Well, the snake “got away.” In the basement. Of a Slob’s house. I’m told the hole he slithered into was boarded up well enough that he couldn’t get out…and I did begin washing laundry again after a week…but I am still on the lookout every time I go down there.
This is a funny story. I don’t mind snakes, but having to crawl through my dusty clutter to find the snake would be the bad part! Searching for a snake in a clean, uncluttered house would be almost fun, in comparison.
Kudos to you for celebrating boy-ness. 🙂
I don’t mind snakes. I’m not a hot or cold snake person like one of the commenters said people generally are. Suddenly seeing one startles me, but doesn’t freak me out or anything. And my mom was supportive of us girls in our capturing of snakes, although we kept them OUTSIDE in five-gallon buckets. Now for a snake story that is probably more than comparable with yours…
I had one brother and there were 7 of us girls. My mom also felt the need to let my brother be a boy. So, he got to bring a captured snake inside, into an aquarium. Another family we were close with, who had 5 little girls, was staying with us not long after. All the little girls were happily sleeping together on the bedroom floor at nights (except me… I was older than the rest and felt myself above such things). One afternoon Mom walked by to see the lid scooted aside and the snake gone, and an immediate search ensued. The snake was found among the foot-high layer of shoes in the girls’ closet. The aquarium was moved outside immediately, with a sigh of relief and a few nervous shudders.
About half an hour later, the dad from the other family came in and said to my mom “You know that snake we just caught? Well… it’s having babies.” Guess what: a snake having babies can have a lot more than you might think, considering they didn’t even appear pregnant (perhaps a “snake person” could have known). Soon, SIXTEEN baby snakes were slithering about the aquarium with their mama. My mom was almost having nightmares, picturing sixteen tiny snakes in the shoes and on the floor of the bedroom with a crowd of little girls…
The snakes didn’t last long. Later the aquarium was used for another boy experience. A tarantula. Which also escaped after a few months… and that has its own story…
Aw, Dana. I was sad to read through your 30 comments and finding none from Aunt Becky’s library class she taught in Kansas where she had the kids google “Chuck the Chicken Snake.” Too bad. Mom (I was really glad to find it again. So funny–at your house.)