Yesterday, as I was waiting for mom to get ready to leave the house, I remembered I had thrown some towels in the washer. Running downstairs, I opened the dryer and saw some clothes in there. No surprise. I’m horrible about emptying it. I hang all my shirts up to dry, so there is never anything in there that can’t be. With mom here, I’m always finding Kleenex remnants in the laundry. She always has a Kleenex with her and I am always missing them before I wash, no matter how hard I look. As I’m folding the clothes, I see a rubbery thing near the zipper of one of her jeans. I’m thinking….what in the world did she leave in her pocket this time? I go to pick it up and as my hand hits the rubbery thing, I scream (a small one), pull my hand away, and do the “icky” dance. It is a SNAKE!!!
Yes, I freak out. I don’t deny it. I hate snakes! Albeit, this was a very very tiny one, but still I’m freaked.
Wait, it’s not moving. Is it dead? I stare at it. Do snakes pretend to be dead when they are frightened? I stare some more. No, they slither away. Yes, conversations are running through my head rapidly. Still staring.
Ok, take a breath. You can do this. I grab my trash can and move it next to the dryer. I’ll just pick up the jeans and then dump the snake into the garbage. Simple.
I start to reach in, being careful as to not put my hands or arms anywhere where this vicious snake could come up and strike me and kill be. The snake slips a little and ends up between the zipper opening and is now touching the dryer! I jump back.
Ugh! Now what to do.
I close the dryer door. I’m done. I can’t do it.
I HAVE to do it. I can’t leave it in there. Ok, I go upstairs looking for something to help me. I shut the door on the dryer to make sure the 50 other baby snakes I can’t see don’t slither into my basement while I’m gone.
I tell mom what’s going on. She starts talking about the guy eating the snake on Naked & Afraid the night before and then she thought about snakes and now there’s one in my dryer. She hates snakes. Yup, right there with you mom.
I grab a plastic Wal-Mart bag so I can pick it up like scooping poop. I’ll lift it out and throw it away.
I open the dryer door and, for some reason, freak out all over again. I quickly run through the list of friends I could call to come help. NO! It is a DEAD baby snake. I CAN do this!
Oh wait….take a picture. No one will believe me. Plus they’ll laugh at me over how small it is. I still have to take one. Carefully…so as not to get bit…line the phone up. Turn the flash on because it’s too dark. Got it.
Now to scoop it up. I can’t tough it. My finger is still giving me phantom “icky” vibes where it touched it before, even though I’ve washed my hands three times already. I look around. I see a mitt I have for wiping the dogs paws when they are wet / muddy. I put it on. Grab the bag. I go in. Quickly reach down, scoop, squeeze, throw. I honestly couldn’t tell if I connected with anything through the thick mitt or not.
I threw the jeans on the floor, looked all over the dryer, and then threw the towels in.
The jeans immediately went into the washer along with some other dark clothes. Had to wash them. They were filthy from dead, rubbery, snake.
Phew! I did it. With limited freak outs and lots of deep breaths. Did not matter. I did it!
Went upstairs to show my mom the picture. Her first question….did you put it on Facebook? Well not yet! I was too busy trying to catch it! Well throw it away.
Of course I posted it. I had to. I still have no clue how it got there. I really don’t want to think about it. All I know is, next time my dryer wants to invite a visitor into my home, I hope it asks for permission!