This past weekend, I got the scare of a lifetime.
It was early on Saturday morning and I was sitting in our Lazy Boy chair, where I usually have my quiet times in the morning. The boys had awaken early that morning and were playing in Daniel's room, so I was trying to spend some "semi-quiet" time with my Bible and praying before Emma Jo woke up.
I opened my eyes to the sound of her crying in her crib and began to get out of the chair. As my eyes cast down at the floor briefly, I saw it: A snake, silently slithering along the baseboard, not 2 feet from me. It wasn't huge, but I knew right away that it was a Copperhead.
I quickly stepped away and raced to the fireplace and retrieved the small shovel. The snake hadn't appeared to notice me yet. I crept up to it and took careful aim. I said a prayer that I wouldn't miss, and then I went for the head with the shovel.
I didn't get as close to the head as I wanted and the snake was pinned against the carpet, which was making it hard to kill. It was striking at the shovel. I held on as tightly as I could and tried to move it against the baseboard. I kept pushing the shovel against the snake for what felt like eternity. Finally, I decided it was dead enough to let go and get it out of the house. I scooped it up with the shovel and headed out the front door.
When I got outside, I was brave enough to take a picture. You can see where I got it with the shovel, there's a little indention...not quite close enough to the head. Had it been a large snake, I would have been in trouble...but then again, had it been a large snake, the kids and I would have evacuated and called for back-up!
I am not certain how the snake got into the house, but I am so thankful that it was me, instead of one of the kids, especially Emma Jo, that found it. I hate to think what would have happened to my fearless little princess if she would have happened upon it first.