Snakes alive!

Okay, I’m done with living in the Wild Kingdom. We just came back from Home Depot and Jim drove up to the garage and stopped before entering to let me out. I sat there screaming (more or less). It goes something like this:

Me: AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaghh!

Jim: (He jumps.) What?

Me: AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaghh!

Jim: (Becoming irritated.) What?

Me: AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaghh!

Jim: What? (Concerned; he’s wondering if I’m having a heartie tack)

Me: AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaghh!

Jim: WHAT!!! (I think he’s getting ready to give me one of those Cher/Nicholas Cage “snap out of it” slaps.)

So I point to the little sidewalk that leads up to our front door and the three foot long black racer sitting there. It has its head up in air a few inches, hungrily eyeing the three fat lizards who are on the stucco and are never coming down. Jim gives me the “Are you for real?” look and says “It’s a baby.”

(Expletive deleted) that baby!

So I realize I’m going to have to get out of the car eventually and at least outside the garage there is more room to run (because I know there can be more of them in the garage; been there, done that). I open the garage door and it slithers into the tiny hedge of Indian hawthorns between the front door slab (lovingly referred to as "the front porch") and little sidewalk and Jim now says “There. It’s gone.”

Like that is (expletive deleted) GONE? Like it isn’t there hiding in the place where I regularly pull weeds just waiting to grab my unsuspecting hand with it’s nasty, aggressive sharp teeth and then fly up my arm and latch on to my jugular? GONE? WHAT IS HE, (EXPLETIVE DELETED) NUTS?

I am never leaving the house again and I’m even done picking up the mail because I have been surprised by lizards and frogs in the mailbox before and I can only guess what will be living in the mailbox sometime soon. That's probably where the flatty on the street came from, the mailman knocked him out of there and ran over him. Yeccccchhhhhhhhhhh.