Ok, I headed outside this past weekend to grill up some delicious beer brats. Now, we have a charcoal grill and it has to share a patio with our two dogs, who are terrified of it. So, I always have to roll it up against the house.
On this hot Sunday evening, I headed outside and grabbed the grill to roll it away from the house. (Grilling rule #1: Don't grill up against the house). Once I located a level spot to set the grill, I turned to retrieve the charcoal bag that I had left outside since the previous grilling (approximately 2 weeks ago). Well, it had rained several times during the charcoal's time sitting outside and I discovered that the bag won't hold up to that kind of abuse. Naturally, when I picked it up the bottom ripped out. I hustled over to the grill with the intent of dumping the remains of the charcoal into the grill through it's newly created bottom opening.
This is when things got interesting. After leaving a trail of charcoal across the patio and all over my feet, I heaved the bag up over the grill and began to shake it out. Into the grill plopped some charcoal and one humongous snake. That's right, one humongous, potentially man-eating and highly venomous snake.
I let out a small, lady-like squeal and headed for the back door, dropping the bag and the rest of the charcoal on the ground. That snake stood up in the grill and from the look in it's eyes I could tell that it was hungry for human blood. Now, if my memory serves me correctly, this is what the snake in my grill looked like:
After attempting to summon up my Harry Potter parseltongue abilities without much success, I began to scream through the screen door for my 10 year old son to come out and rescue me. After much yelling, he finally came to the door to see what all the commotion was about. "There's a snake in the grill," I told him, as calmly as possible. "What do you want me to do about it? I don't have any shoes on," he told me before turning around and heading back into the house. That is when I realized that it must be sometime after the age of 10 that boys develop a desire to rescue the damsel in distress.
Thankfully, B came to my rescue and chased the snake off. It slithered away reluctantly and is now probably hiding in the grass waiting to catch me alone and finish the meal he had himself all watered up for. (Believe me, I'm tastey. Ask any mosquito in Nebraska.)
P.S. B has informed me that the snake probably looked more like this:
Oh, well Indiana Jones didn't like snakes either.
Shannon,
ReplyDeleteYour blogs crack me up. I was rolling while I read this one.