This is Too Creepy

I learned some disturbing news from my Mother today. It seems they have an unwanted visitor in their home. My Dad was in the basement today and spotted a 2 1/2 to 3-foot long snake skin on the lower kitchen floor. The snake that lost its skin could not be found, even though my Dad and one of my brothers did a thorough search of the house.

The most disturbing thing about all this is my Mother appeared undisturbed. One daughter-in-law told her that most women would refuse to live in the house until the wretched thing was located. Not only located, but the entry point was also discovered and sealed. Mother laughed it off. She's never been one to squeal and carry on about things. I've never been one to squeal and carry on about things, either. Unless it's a snake.

During one of my many childhood trips to the lake, I remember how we were all sitting by the campfire one night. Mother calmly announced that a snake was crawling over her feet. All eyes turned to her just in time to see her raise her feet as the snake slithered off. She didn't scream. She didn't refuse to camp out again. She didn't even run. She just calmly made a statement as if to say the moon was exceptionally bright that night.

Then, two years ago, the day before her 80th birthday, she told my Dad as they went to bed that a mouse scurried across her arm. He told her she was dreaming. It happened again and she told him a second time. He turned on the light just as the furry imp jumped off the bed. Again, no theatrics from my Mother. And more recently, they found a live frog in one of their houseplants. I'd be demanding to know how this many unsavory creatures found their way into my home. And I'd be staying at the Hampton Inn until it was found and fixed.

Now, I'm not afraid of mice or insects. But I do get startled easily if something like that catches me by surprise. But I'm not one to squeal and flap my arms if I happen to see a spider on the wall. I have no problem disposing of it. Snakes are a different story. I'm terrified, and won't even get close enough to dispose of it. There's just something so hideous about them. I don't like the way they look. I don't like the way they move. They have no redeeming qualities. And one is loose in my parents' home and they have not vacated the premises.

I can understand why Dad, being the big, tough man of the house, is staying there and refusing to let a harmless little snake force him from his own home. Providing that it is, indeed, harmless. They live in a rural area where venom can be found. But venom or not, a snake is a snake and my Mother should be concerned when she crawls into bed tonight. I am not my Mother's daughter. That disturbs me the most.