Scary Apartment!

Here's a replay of last night:

Me: I'm reading my new Nicolas Sparks autographed book.
Bandit: is playing around messing with the door, and some Marshmallow roaster sticks for campfires we had out next to the door.
John: is in the bedroom watching sports.

I ignore bandit as he continues to play, I keep reading.
A few minutes go by, Bandit is still playing, I keep reading.
Finally, I look over and see Bandit batting at the sticks. He keeps batting, batting, bites at the sticks, batting, batting, bites.... (you can see the action I bet.)

As he bites, I notice that whatever he biting at is ON the sticks....and it just moved....IT MOVED!

So I get up thinking, "What is THAT??"

I look at the sticks, and it's a snake! A SNAKE, in our apartment!

I scream.

Of course, I scream. "JOHN!!! SNAKE!!!!!"

My re-enactment is one that is justified only in person, but none-the-less, I will describe what happens next.

John: Swings open bedroom door. Runs out to the living room. Stops, looks around, and says "Where is it??" in a panicked voice.

Me: I point to a place only 2 feet away.

John: "HOLY S***!!! HOW THE H*** DID IT GET IN HERE?!?!"

John then does the manly thing and takes the snake outside, being careful not to get bitten and protects the family.



Upon looking up the snake we find out that it was indeed a "Worm snake" is not venomous, and active primarily at night. I don't like to kill things that are not a harm to me, so I'm glad that it wasn't poisonous.

Needless to say, I hope our new apartment does not have snakes!

Check it out tonight!

Amy Grant and Pinesol

This weekend as I was cleaning our apartment and starting to box stuff up to move, I started to reminisce back to when I was about 10. My memory starts as me and momma cleaning the house. Who knows where the men of the house were, but in this recurring memory they are never there to rain on the parade of girliness. We're sweeping and dusting and back then, Amy Grant was huge, so of course, her CD is blasting on the "boom-box". We end up dancing in the middle of the freshly cleaned hardwoods and singing along with the CD, in never ending blissful femininity.

As I was cleaning our apartment (John was gone with the band), I was singing Amy Grant's "Galileo" in my head. For some reason, every other song on the radio couldn't compare, and the smell of Pinesol instantly brings me back..... every time.