Last night as AE and I were coming home after soccer, something fell from the garage ceiling with a plop. And landed about 6 inches from where I was standing. I didn’t think too much of it, because really, what could it be? A clump of mud? A rock? A hunk of grass? All fairly non-dangerous items. But no. It was, in fact, a snake. A SNAKE. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

Now, I’m not afraid of snakes. Roaches, yes. You show me a roach and I will show you how quickly I can run screaming for the door. But I have handled snakes before (Look at me! Am smarty-pants herpetologist!) and I’m really not that afraid of them. Of course, to be perfectly honest, all of the snakes that I have previously come into contact with were of the non-biting variety. Grass snakes, boa constrictors, small pythons, that sort of thing, which were presented to me in a controlled environment. This one was a gray and black snake of unidentified origin that almost fell on me, which is a different situation altogether.

So of course N was not at home, which meant I had to “deal” with it all by myself. So I did what any good mom would do: hurried my child into the house (but not before a quick show-and-tell – Look, AE! A snake!), set down all the junk I was carrying, let the dog out of her crate, took the dog out back to potty, got AE something to drink, helped him take off his shoes and shin guards, THEN went back outside to survey the situation. The snake was gone! What a surprise. So now there is a snake loose somewhere in our garage, and N thinks that I am quite insane.

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In other bizarre news from yesterday, my bathroom shower tried to kill me. I was taking a shower before bed when all of a sudden WHAM! The shower head flew off and hit me right in the shoulder. Apparently a screw had fallen out and so the water pressure had worked it loose. So of course water is spraying everywhere – over the top of the shower door, all over the floor and walls and even onto the edge of the carpet (thank god the bathroom itself is tiled). I turned the water off and managed to work the shower head back onto the nozzle without benefit of my contacts (without which I am blind as a bat), but of course I couldn’t find the screw which undoubtedly had gone right down the drain.

After I had dried myself off and cleaned up most of the mess I tried to explain to N what had happened, but I think I only further succeeded in proving my insanity. He just stood there shaking his head.

Then I went straight to bed, because SERIOUSLY.