Sunday, May 22, 2011

In which there are critters

Last night, I walked in the back door after dinner with Jack to find a huge slug in my back entryway. It was long and fat and slimy and disgusting, and it was oozing itself across the baseboard and up the wall.

I froze.

"Jaaaaackkkk????" I called. "There's a slug. I need you to get it out of here."

Jack was audibly annoyed from the other room.

"Can't you just get it yourself?" he called back.

"No. No I can't. Please, come get it," I pleaded, watching it leave a slimy trail across my wall as it traveled toward Maggie's food.

For some reason (he was afraid of it too), Jack had had it with my not ever wanting to catch disgusting crawly things myself, and he decided to take a stand against Crazy Mandy in that moment.

"I'm not getting it this time," he said, stubbornly. "I don't see why I should have to catch stuff every time. You do it."

He was grumpy. I was unable to let something like this stay in my house. Needless to say, this led to a fight, at which one point I yelled "WHY DID I GET MARRIED IF MY HUSBAND WON'T CATCH THE CRITTERS!?"

I should add that yelling during arguments is really out of character for us, but most of the reason for that was that we were still residing in different rooms during this exchange.

Anyway, Jack had resolved to finally make me do something for once, and I was there, alone, eyes on this living slime ball.

I don't really know how to explain what happens to me when I see a gecko or large bug in my house. My brain just sends "MUST WATCH IT SO IT DOESN'T ATTACK" signals to my muscles until I'm standing there, paralyzed, staring at the thing like a Neanderthal. I don't have any way to catch the critter without leaving, and if I leave, I'm 100% sure that said critter will escape/attack while I'm gone.

So I stood there, watching the slug, as if that's what would keep it from getting away. As if I would actually be able to do something if this slug all of the sudden rocketed across the wall and flew at my face like that rabbit in Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

But it didn't do that (this time), probably because it's a slug and there's a reason that people say "as slow as a slug" (people say that, right?) or "sluggish." It's because slugs are slow.

Regardless, I stood there, watching it get closer to my beloved dog's food.

What if it gets in Maggie's food and eats her food? What if she accidentally eats it and it's a poisonous slug!? Then she'll DIE. THIS SLUG IS GOING TO KILL MY DOG!!!*

*Actual thoughts I thought in that moment.

Anyway, after about 10 minutes of silence, Jack stormed through the room, threw open the door to the garage, emerged a moment later with a dust pan, slamming the door behind him. He scooped up the slug and threw it outside, and then stormed back into the living room.

This moment just proves that 1) I can totally win any battle of wills by being my natural neurotic self, and 2) even when Jack tries to be a jerk because I'm being crazy, his natural instincts to take care of his woman does not allow it, and he has to do the chivalrous thing and remove the critter.

So, I won that one, I guess, though I paid for it during the next few hours in annoyed sighs, "I don't know why you just stand there and stare at it!"s, and silence.

Fast forward to today - Jack went to the lake with his friends and I stayed behind to finish a project 16 projects I've been working on/want to start (thanks a lot, Pinterest, I now have Crafting ADD.)

After I finished my beautiful new ($5!) over-the-bed wall hanging I made (I'm posting pictures tomorrow!), I headed to our room to hang it up. I had already put the screws in the wall (plus a few extra holes in the wall for good luck!), so all I had to do was stand up on the bed and place it up there.

As I stepped back off the bed after hanging it up, I happened to see a long black string over by my bedroom door. Except, the string was moving. Because THE STRING WAS A SNAKE.

I can't possibly tell you this without seeming even more crazy, but I am far less afraid of snakes than I am of geckos. And yes, I realize that many species of snakes are poisonous and zero species of geckos are poisonous. But the heart fears what it fears. There is no explaining it away. I have The Crazy.

But still, I'm not a huge fan of them.

But I was alone in the house, so I knew I'd have to do it myself. Plus, there was really no way Jack was going to get this one for me even if I waited for him to get home to get it; he's terrified of snakes. I was on my own.

I grabbed a vase that I had set aside to paint in the garage and a Corningware lid and headed back to the bedroom. The snake was still in the same spot but slowly inching along the baseboard. It looked like it was burrowing between the carpet and the baseboard. If he got under the carpet, it would be really bad news for the state of my Crazy.

And then I basically blacked out like those moms who lift cars off their babies, scared the snake back out of the baseboard, then scooped up the snake in the vase and put the lid on top.

My name is Stan I am scaly and disgusting and IMPRISONED!

I kept Stan in the vase in the foyer, lid on top, for the rest of the evening, because I was done with the adventures and didn't want to take any chances of running into a gecko while I carried the snake outside.

But at least I caught it. Myself. So, Jack? I'd say we're even for the slug thing now.

And honey? Can you get the next one too please?

I think I'm done.
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