I think if I have to look for one more thing I am going to scream.
Jared woke me up this morning at 4:30 because he couldn't find his boxers or clothes that I had washed late last night. So I got up and found them for him, because it was not fun having him stand next to my bed in a towel dripping on me.
Next he asked if I had found his paper with his home room assignment on it. We had talked about it last night when he was going to bed. I was too tired and figured I would have time to find it this morning. So my searching began at 4:35. At 5:20 I stopped looking and made Jared breakfast. I then resumed the search until 5:45 when it was time to leave for seminary. I told him I would continue the search and hopefully find it before he had to go to school at 7:00.
Oh and did I mention that while I was looking through the piles of papers on my dining room table, I felt drops of water raining down? Yes indeedy it was raining in my house again. Dang, I so hate it when that happens. I am not even sure where the water was coming from, but the bathroom upstairs seems the likely culprit.
I went through the motions of punching a hole in the ceiling with a screw driver and placing buckets to catch the dripping water. It is still dripping 2 hours later, but it is not constant enough to be a hole in the pipe I don't think. For now it is under control and I will let my husband deal with it when he wakes up.
So the searching continued and I became more and more convinced that the needed paper had been thrown away in all the chaos of the past week. Next I tried to look it up on the Internet. First my computer told me that my Internet connection had failed. Next the Internet worked but the school link was broken. WHAT THE WHAT!!! Way to stress parents out on the first day of school.
Diana was trying to sleep on the couch, because we are painting her room and her bed is covered with junk. That is only adding to the chaos around here. Yesterday, I couldn't find my lesson manual which was slightly important seeing as how I was suppose to teach Sunday School and I had done zero preparation. Luckily I could print it off the Internet. Next I couldn't find my car keys and had to use my backup set, only to find my original keys in my church bag when I got there. And finally my husband and Jared were 15 minutes late to church because they could not find Jared's church clothes anywhere. Dang Bermuda triangle that lives at my house. Finally Jared borrowed one of my husband's shirts and wore a pair of jeans. Geez Louise.
And so back to this morning. Diana is now awake from all the cursing going on. She needs breakfast even though it is 6 am. I got her a bowl of cereal and decided to run over to the high school and see if I couldn't just find out the home room number.
The school was not very crowded at 6:20 in the morning. I talked with the secretary and she did not know if they had posted the list of home room numbers yet. Also her computer was being backed up and so she could not even look it up for me. I cursed the gods of technology once again.
I went to try and talk to the nurse about Jared's PE exemption, and noticed that the lists were posted on the cafeteria windows. I found the needed information and even walked over and found out where the room was for him.
I made my way back to the car and went to the church. Along the way I passed all the cars going to school. I guess they let seminary out 10 minutes early. I picked up Jared and returned to the school. Explained to him where to go to his class and navigated the parking lot of crazed parents and teenagers.
Now at 7:30, Diana is back asleep. I wonder if it will be hard to wake her up for school in half an hour.
I have to work today, of course. So it will be a long day. Perhaps I will go lay back down for a minute or two. Good thing, I went to bed at 8:45 last night.
Does anyone want to argue with me that I am not Nutty?
So that was my Monday morning, how was yours?
Showing posts with label near death experiences. Show all posts
Showing posts with label near death experiences. Show all posts
Monday, August 24, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Much Ado About Nothing
The dreaded day of my IRS audit finally arrived. I have spent much of the past two weeks searching hi and low and near and far for my supporting documentation.
Yesterday, I put the finishing touches on the worksheets I created. I checked and double checked everything. I looked on map quest so I would know where exactly I was going to go. I made sure that all my folders were neatly stacked and ready to go.
I tried to reassure myself that all would be well, but I would be lying if I said that it wasn't difficult to go to sleep. It would also be a lie to say that I slept soundly through the night without a care in the world. I tossed and turned all night long whilst dreaming of the Spanish Inquisition.
Somehow, I snoozed my alarm and was very dismayed to wake and see that the time was 7:18. My appointment was for 8:00 am. Hurriedly I got dressed, telling myself that showers are highly over rated.
The computer beckoned to me to check and see if anyone had commented on my post yesterday. This was a mistake, because before I knew it 15 minutes had passed and I was later leaving than I wanted to be.
Once again, I cautiously sped trying to make up for lost time. There were two different routes I could have taken, but one of them had cars backed up onto the off ramp, so that made my decision easy.
Somehow I missed the building the first time I drove by and actually ran a red light to do a U-turn. I didn't have time to wait and there were no cars anywhere in the vicinity.
Anxiously, I pulled the parking garage ticket from the little machine. My stomach had now felt like I had swallowed a bucket of nails. Quickly, I parked and walked into the building. By now I was feeling a little dizzy and wondered if they have any paper bags I could breathe into.
The security guard checked out my appointment letter and told me to go through two large doors. I wondered if they would lock behind me and I would never be heard from again.
Once in the smallish waiting room, I picked up the phone and dialed the extension on my letter to let my examiner know I was there. He told me to wait for a few minutes.
I sat down and noticed a plant growing up and over the whole wall.
I thought it looked rather ominous and picture worthy. Quick as a bunny, I pulled out my camera and snapped a shot. The secretary behind the glass window informed me that it is against the law to take pictures in federal buildings. I said "Sorry, I didn't know, and it was just the plant anyway."
This secretary reminded me of the secretary in Monsters Inc. I asked her about the plant and she told me that it was 20 years old. Yikes, she did look ancient, but how long had she worked there? Perhaps that plant was her pride and joy, her only source of happiness in this life, and I had (gasp) taken a picture of it. Well, excuuuse me. Am I right, doesn't it look kind of creepy?
Finally, the door leading back to all the cubicles opened, and I was face to face with the MAN. I not sure what I expected, probably someone tall and spindly, with a comb over, and thick black rimmed glasses. The person I stood facing looked more like Wilford Brimley than Icabod Crane.
He seemed nice enough. He ushered me back to a cubicle in the back that even had a window. Somehow, I had envisioned a dark large room with spot lights and torture devices. There wasn't even anything remotely scary about this cubicle. In fact there was a cane laying on the back credenza and a Starbucks cup sitting next to the computer. All very normal run of the mill stuff.
I sat there waiting patiently. One person had given me the advice that I was not to offer any information, only answer questions as they were asked. This had me very worried because when I get nervous I tend to ramble on and fill any silence. So I was concentrating on not talking which made me even more nervous.
First he went over my rights. Blah, blah, blah and yada, yada, yada. Then he asked me a bunch of questions about whether I had any undeclared income or any rich uncles who died and left me millions of dollars that I had failed to report. I wondered that if you did have hidden money, would you just tell the IRS about it. The only question I could answer yes to was the one about getting an insurance settlement for my car that Trent totaled.
Then he asked me a bunch of information like my address and phone number. It kind of scared me to think that I had to give the IRS my cell phone number. All of these questions were harmless, though.
Finally, the moment of truth. We moved onto the part of him asking for my supporting detail about my cash contributions. I was a little put out to find out that he accepted just my letter from the church about my tithing. I didn't need all the copies of my canceled checks after all. What the what? Oh well it was reeeally fun to spend 6 hours digging through bank statements and at the bank in Utah. Seriously, I shouldn't complain, it was much easier this way. But why did the letter they sent me say I needed the dang copies, in the first place.
He did take the copies of the checks that I had given to Friends of Scouting and for Jared's scout camp. I really thought that he was going to question me about the scout camp, but I managed to keep from rambling on about it and he didn't say anything.
He made copies of the two receipts I had from Good Will. I was worried about those as well, but he didn't want anything more than the copies.
Then he did some things on his computer and printed out some forms. All the while I sat there dying from the suspense, but trying to remain calm.
In the end he told me that I did not owe any additional tax. And I would not be audited for 2008 or 2009. And just like that, it was over.
I pondered asking him if I could take my picture with him, but given the whole "it's against the rules" policy, I decided discretion was the better part of valor.
He shook my hand and escorted me out to the waiting room. The whole thing took 30 minutes. I spent longer in the car to get there and back.
And so just like some kind commenter had told me, it was much better than I had expected. Painless even. The worst part was all the stress and worry that I inflicted on myself before I even got there.
I came home and informed my husband, who was very relieved. He was convinced that all our assets were going to be confiscated and we would end up homeless living in a van down by the river. Except Vegas doesn't have any rivers. We do however own a van, so half of his dream could have come true. He's an optimist that way.
I did request that my family address me with "Hail the conquering hero" for the rest of the day, but they didn't seem keen on that idea.
At least now I can check "Stress out over the doom and gloom of the upcoming IRS audit" off my list of things to do each day. What will I do with all the spare time and added years to my life expectancy?
Yesterday, I put the finishing touches on the worksheets I created. I checked and double checked everything. I looked on map quest so I would know where exactly I was going to go. I made sure that all my folders were neatly stacked and ready to go.
I tried to reassure myself that all would be well, but I would be lying if I said that it wasn't difficult to go to sleep. It would also be a lie to say that I slept soundly through the night without a care in the world. I tossed and turned all night long whilst dreaming of the Spanish Inquisition.
Somehow, I snoozed my alarm and was very dismayed to wake and see that the time was 7:18. My appointment was for 8:00 am. Hurriedly I got dressed, telling myself that showers are highly over rated.
The computer beckoned to me to check and see if anyone had commented on my post yesterday. This was a mistake, because before I knew it 15 minutes had passed and I was later leaving than I wanted to be.
Once again, I cautiously sped trying to make up for lost time. There were two different routes I could have taken, but one of them had cars backed up onto the off ramp, so that made my decision easy.
Somehow I missed the building the first time I drove by and actually ran a red light to do a U-turn. I didn't have time to wait and there were no cars anywhere in the vicinity.
Anxiously, I pulled the parking garage ticket from the little machine. My stomach had now felt like I had swallowed a bucket of nails. Quickly, I parked and walked into the building. By now I was feeling a little dizzy and wondered if they have any paper bags I could breathe into.
The security guard checked out my appointment letter and told me to go through two large doors. I wondered if they would lock behind me and I would never be heard from again.
Once in the smallish waiting room, I picked up the phone and dialed the extension on my letter to let my examiner know I was there. He told me to wait for a few minutes.
I sat down and noticed a plant growing up and over the whole wall.
I thought it looked rather ominous and picture worthy. Quick as a bunny, I pulled out my camera and snapped a shot. The secretary behind the glass window informed me that it is against the law to take pictures in federal buildings. I said "Sorry, I didn't know, and it was just the plant anyway." This secretary reminded me of the secretary in Monsters Inc. I asked her about the plant and she told me that it was 20 years old. Yikes, she did look ancient, but how long had she worked there? Perhaps that plant was her pride and joy, her only source of happiness in this life, and I had (gasp) taken a picture of it. Well, excuuuse me. Am I right, doesn't it look kind of creepy?
Finally, the door leading back to all the cubicles opened, and I was face to face with the MAN. I not sure what I expected, probably someone tall and spindly, with a comb over, and thick black rimmed glasses. The person I stood facing looked more like Wilford Brimley than Icabod Crane.
He seemed nice enough. He ushered me back to a cubicle in the back that even had a window. Somehow, I had envisioned a dark large room with spot lights and torture devices. There wasn't even anything remotely scary about this cubicle. In fact there was a cane laying on the back credenza and a Starbucks cup sitting next to the computer. All very normal run of the mill stuff.
I sat there waiting patiently. One person had given me the advice that I was not to offer any information, only answer questions as they were asked. This had me very worried because when I get nervous I tend to ramble on and fill any silence. So I was concentrating on not talking which made me even more nervous.
First he went over my rights. Blah, blah, blah and yada, yada, yada. Then he asked me a bunch of questions about whether I had any undeclared income or any rich uncles who died and left me millions of dollars that I had failed to report. I wondered that if you did have hidden money, would you just tell the IRS about it. The only question I could answer yes to was the one about getting an insurance settlement for my car that Trent totaled.
Then he asked me a bunch of information like my address and phone number. It kind of scared me to think that I had to give the IRS my cell phone number. All of these questions were harmless, though.
Finally, the moment of truth. We moved onto the part of him asking for my supporting detail about my cash contributions. I was a little put out to find out that he accepted just my letter from the church about my tithing. I didn't need all the copies of my canceled checks after all. What the what? Oh well it was reeeally fun to spend 6 hours digging through bank statements and at the bank in Utah. Seriously, I shouldn't complain, it was much easier this way. But why did the letter they sent me say I needed the dang copies, in the first place.
He did take the copies of the checks that I had given to Friends of Scouting and for Jared's scout camp. I really thought that he was going to question me about the scout camp, but I managed to keep from rambling on about it and he didn't say anything.
He made copies of the two receipts I had from Good Will. I was worried about those as well, but he didn't want anything more than the copies.
Then he did some things on his computer and printed out some forms. All the while I sat there dying from the suspense, but trying to remain calm.
In the end he told me that I did not owe any additional tax. And I would not be audited for 2008 or 2009. And just like that, it was over.
I pondered asking him if I could take my picture with him, but given the whole "it's against the rules" policy, I decided discretion was the better part of valor.
He shook my hand and escorted me out to the waiting room. The whole thing took 30 minutes. I spent longer in the car to get there and back.
And so just like some kind commenter had told me, it was much better than I had expected. Painless even. The worst part was all the stress and worry that I inflicted on myself before I even got there.
I came home and informed my husband, who was very relieved. He was convinced that all our assets were going to be confiscated and we would end up homeless living in a van down by the river. Except Vegas doesn't have any rivers. We do however own a van, so half of his dream could have come true. He's an optimist that way.
I did request that my family address me with "Hail the conquering hero" for the rest of the day, but they didn't seem keen on that idea.
At least now I can check "Stress out over the doom and gloom of the upcoming IRS audit" off my list of things to do each day. What will I do with all the spare time and added years to my life expectancy?
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
A New Life Experience
A couple of weeks ago, I went to my mailbox, and what did I see? A letter from the IRS staring at me. Yes, people, I can now add "Audited by the IRS" to my list of life experiences I could do without.
Of course this came in the middle of all my crazy working weeks. So I just decided to stay in denial and put it to the side.
Today, it has finally made it to the top of my "Things to have a nervous break down over today" list. So I thought I would blog about it.
Another time, the chance to blog about something is the only good thing you have to say about it. Because sitting here at my computer blogging, is so much more productive than say gathering my supporting documentation in order, don't ya think? It's all about priorities, right?
And proving once again that no good deed goes unpunished, the category they have chosen to audit is my charitable contributions for 2007. If I read the paperwork correctly, I have to get copies of all my checks for supporting back up.
The date of my audit is August 12th at 8:00 AM. Are these people saddists or what? Way to ruin my summer vacation. And the letter says to be prepared to be there/be tortured for four hours. Good night nurse! What could they possibly talk to/grill me about for four hours. That is a ways away, but I have plans to be out of town for 10 days in the next two weeks. This weekend to attend a family reunion in Preston Idaho and the next to attend a nephew's baptism in Arizona.
So I better stop typing and get to working on that little project. My husband is a bit of a doomsdayer and he is sure we will loose all we own from penalties. If I go to jail for tax evasion, could someone please send me a cake with a file in it or at the very least a lap top with an Internet card. Think of the possibilities for blogging from jail. Hmmmm. Another time blogging can make the best of a worst case scenario.
Of course this came in the middle of all my crazy working weeks. So I just decided to stay in denial and put it to the side.
Today, it has finally made it to the top of my "Things to have a nervous break down over today" list. So I thought I would blog about it.
Another time, the chance to blog about something is the only good thing you have to say about it. Because sitting here at my computer blogging, is so much more productive than say gathering my supporting documentation in order, don't ya think? It's all about priorities, right?
And proving once again that no good deed goes unpunished, the category they have chosen to audit is my charitable contributions for 2007. If I read the paperwork correctly, I have to get copies of all my checks for supporting back up.
The date of my audit is August 12th at 8:00 AM. Are these people saddists or what? Way to ruin my summer vacation. And the letter says to be prepared to be there/be tortured for four hours. Good night nurse! What could they possibly talk to/grill me about for four hours. That is a ways away, but I have plans to be out of town for 10 days in the next two weeks. This weekend to attend a family reunion in Preston Idaho and the next to attend a nephew's baptism in Arizona.
So I better stop typing and get to working on that little project. My husband is a bit of a doomsdayer and he is sure we will loose all we own from penalties. If I go to jail for tax evasion, could someone please send me a cake with a file in it or at the very least a lap top with an Internet card. Think of the possibilities for blogging from jail. Hmmmm. Another time blogging can make the best of a worst case scenario.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Topless in Las Vegas
How do you like that title? Pretty catchy, huh? Probably not the best thing, though for perverts to be googling me. Just a little holiday humor.
What I really mean is Laptopless in Las Vegas, K. Everyone feel better now? All you crazies looking for excitement/nudity move along to the Crash Test Dummy Diaries. If you like that kind of thing, there are topless people at the beach in Hawaii. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
Here in Las Vegas, it is just me, laptopless for a week and a half. I know it is horrifying just to think about. And believe me living the nightmare was worse. Because just like another favorite blogger of mine, to blog is to breathe.
And just to clarify why my laptop is my most priceless possession, besides my BoM of course, try living in a house with just ONE computer and FIVE computer addicted people. The lines behind the computer station have been longer than to see Santa at the mall. Sheesh.
I have wondered if one can die from lack of computer time to write and read blogs since blogging is my life source. But we have had a Christmas miracle and my laptop was rushed to the emergency room and returned to me via fed ex just this afternoon. Good thing too, because my face was turning purple from the lack of bloxygen.
At one point, I even went to the extreme of writing with a paper and pencil!! Can you even believe the depravity? Talk about a Dickens Christmas special. Good grief.
So I have spent about 8 hours straight catching up on everything that has been happening in the blogosphere, that I was unable to read in my 5 minutes of allotted computer time.
It was a good time to be out of the loop, because apparently people have lives and are not just sitting writing for my entertainment. Who knew?
And now I feel like it is the end of fast Sunday and I must eat/read everything in sight. You may be seeing an unusual number of posts coming from me, because things have been building up inside and may come pouring out. Besides I have this ridiculous dream that I can get to 365 posts for the year. So we will see. Maybe it will be just one more dream I wave to as I ride this train called my life through the tunnel of darkness.
Maybe yes and maybe no. The suspense is killing me. Just like on Willy Wonka. The old one with Gene Wilder not the new one. No offense to Johny Depp, but I am a Wonka purist.
What I really mean is Laptopless in Las Vegas, K. Everyone feel better now? All you crazies looking for excitement/nudity move along to the Crash Test Dummy Diaries. If you like that kind of thing, there are topless people at the beach in Hawaii. Not that there is anything wrong with that.
Here in Las Vegas, it is just me, laptopless for a week and a half. I know it is horrifying just to think about. And believe me living the nightmare was worse. Because just like another favorite blogger of mine, to blog is to breathe.
And just to clarify why my laptop is my most priceless possession, besides my BoM of course, try living in a house with just ONE computer and FIVE computer addicted people. The lines behind the computer station have been longer than to see Santa at the mall. Sheesh.
I have wondered if one can die from lack of computer time to write and read blogs since blogging is my life source. But we have had a Christmas miracle and my laptop was rushed to the emergency room and returned to me via fed ex just this afternoon. Good thing too, because my face was turning purple from the lack of bloxygen.
At one point, I even went to the extreme of writing with a paper and pencil!! Can you even believe the depravity? Talk about a Dickens Christmas special. Good grief.
So I have spent about 8 hours straight catching up on everything that has been happening in the blogosphere, that I was unable to read in my 5 minutes of allotted computer time.
It was a good time to be out of the loop, because apparently people have lives and are not just sitting writing for my entertainment. Who knew?
And now I feel like it is the end of fast Sunday and I must eat/read everything in sight. You may be seeing an unusual number of posts coming from me, because things have been building up inside and may come pouring out. Besides I have this ridiculous dream that I can get to 365 posts for the year. So we will see. Maybe it will be just one more dream I wave to as I ride this train called my life through the tunnel of darkness.
Maybe yes and maybe no. The suspense is killing me. Just like on Willy Wonka. The old one with Gene Wilder not the new one. No offense to Johny Depp, but I am a Wonka purist.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Flash Flood
One of the coolest things at the Springs Preserve was a flash flood demonstration. We were standing on a platform and witnessed how fast a flood can happen when it rains. I thought it was pretty cool. In fact the kids thought it was so fun that they had to do it twice. So here is a short little video of what we experienced. Notice how many times I ask the kids if they got wet. Geez can we say annoying mom or what?
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Biting the hand that feeds you.
For any of you who do not know about this, Jared has 2 corn snakes for pets. He bought them with his own money right after we moved to our new house. We had decided to get rid of all our cats, and a snake seemed like a lower maintenance animal. Of course we started with one snake, but soon that was not enough. I personally belong to the Harrison Ford school of "I hate snakes". In fact to say that I hate them is putting it mildly. I have loathed, feared and pretty much detested the slithering things from the time I was a small child. Most of my brothers and sisters loved catching Gardner snakes when we were children. Any sight of any snake sends me looking for higher ground, whether it be a table, tree, or the person standing next to me. When I see a snake, I need to be as high off the ground and far away from it as possible. This would account for my reluctance to getting a snake in the first place. But of course I am a softie and finally was persuaded that I would never have to actually touch the snake and that it would stay locked in its cage most of the time. This has been a happy arrangement for the past year and a half.
Jared has done a pretty good job of being in charge of all the snake care, ie feeding, holding, watering, and changing the paper shavings in the cage. For those of you fortunate enough to be in the dark about such things, snakes like to eat mice. And for those of us who need to feed our snakes they come in a handy frozen form. (Even snakes can eat frozen TV dinners.) Participating in the buying of frozen mice has been an experience I could do without. We first bought some with the snake from a pet store. To begin with you feed baby snakes, baby mice called "pinkies". The first time we bought some "pinkies" they came in a clear plastic baggie, that then had to be kept in my freezer next to the popsicles and ice cream. After those ran out, we went to PetSmart. After waiting for quite a while for someone to help us, one of the workers told us to just go over to the freezer and get the mice our selves. They have a freezer much like you would see at 7-11. In this freezer was a plastic storage bin containing several drawers. Each drawer had several white plastic bags with various sizes of mice and rats in them. I could not see how the bags were labeled, and so I began checking inside of the bags looking for the "pinkies". I opened several bags with disgusting rodents, but when I got to a bag containing a rat the size of a guinea pig, I had to draw the line. I went back to the worker and told him he would have to find the "pinkies" for me, as I did not want to visions of rats marching through my dreams for next few weeks. I do like the fact that that bags of mice from PetSmart are not clear, and so you can get the hamburger out of the freezer with out a close encounter with a small, frozen, pink mouse. Our snakes have now grown bigger and they have moved up from eating "pinkies" to "fuzzies". These are as appealing to look at, as you would imagine from the name of them.
OK, sorry for so much background information. This brings us to last Monday morning. For the past week, Jared has been complaining each night that he forgot to feed his snakes, and could I please remind him during the daytime, when he could do something about it. So on Monday morning I reminded him to feed his snakes. Marion was home and told Jared to take the snakes out of the freezer, let them defrost, and then Marion would do the feeding. Jared took the mice out to defrost. Marion had gotten up and gone to seminary to help our Bishop that morning, and decided to lay back down in Jared's room. When the timer went off, I took the mice up to the snake cage. I put a mouse in the bottom of two brown lunch sacks. I then made Marion reach up from where he was lying and lift each of the snakes into the bags. This all seemed to be going really well. Next I was adjusting the bags a bit so I could close the lid. As I tried to tip one of the bags on it side, I suddenly felt a small prick on my thumb. What happened next is a bit of a blur, but it involved lots of screaming and me flinging my hand in the air with the snake attached to my thumb. At some point the snake decided to let go of me and it landed on the floor on the other side of the room. I am now dancing around and yelling at Marion to get up and catch the snake. He is telling me that snakes do not bite, but I have two tiny red spots of blood on my thumb to prove otherwise. I run from the room still screaming and Marion tries to get up and get the snake. By now it is no where to be seen. I am less than thrilled by this, as my neighbor lost one of her kids corn snakes in her house for about 3 months. I think about begining to pack and go to a hotel for the next few months until the snake resurfaces because I know that I will not be able to live in my house if that snake is not locked safely in its cage. Diana is now wondering what all the screaming is about. Marion and I try to lift up all of the things on the floor of Jared's room, but do not find that snake anywhere. We finally narrow it down to being under the desk in the corner of Jared's room. In order to lift the desk, Marion had to move several things, including a fish tank on top of the desk. Finally he is able to lift the desk, and I look under it and spot the snake. Marion then moves the desk and picks up the escapee. Now he needs to put everything back together. He makes me hold the snake while he does this. Once again, I am not impressed, but it is better than having it get loose again. He is slowly adjusting everything, which includes cords to the several different things in Jared's room. I tell him that he needs to hurry before I pass out. Finally the snake is returned and I go off in search of some sort of sedation that can return my heart rate to normal. I was feeling a bit sleepy before this, but I have to admit to be much more awake after it was all said and done.
Jared has done a pretty good job of being in charge of all the snake care, ie feeding, holding, watering, and changing the paper shavings in the cage. For those of you fortunate enough to be in the dark about such things, snakes like to eat mice. And for those of us who need to feed our snakes they come in a handy frozen form. (Even snakes can eat frozen TV dinners.) Participating in the buying of frozen mice has been an experience I could do without. We first bought some with the snake from a pet store. To begin with you feed baby snakes, baby mice called "pinkies". The first time we bought some "pinkies" they came in a clear plastic baggie, that then had to be kept in my freezer next to the popsicles and ice cream. After those ran out, we went to PetSmart. After waiting for quite a while for someone to help us, one of the workers told us to just go over to the freezer and get the mice our selves. They have a freezer much like you would see at 7-11. In this freezer was a plastic storage bin containing several drawers. Each drawer had several white plastic bags with various sizes of mice and rats in them. I could not see how the bags were labeled, and so I began checking inside of the bags looking for the "pinkies". I opened several bags with disgusting rodents, but when I got to a bag containing a rat the size of a guinea pig, I had to draw the line. I went back to the worker and told him he would have to find the "pinkies" for me, as I did not want to visions of rats marching through my dreams for next few weeks. I do like the fact that that bags of mice from PetSmart are not clear, and so you can get the hamburger out of the freezer with out a close encounter with a small, frozen, pink mouse. Our snakes have now grown bigger and they have moved up from eating "pinkies" to "fuzzies". These are as appealing to look at, as you would imagine from the name of them.
OK, sorry for so much background information. This brings us to last Monday morning. For the past week, Jared has been complaining each night that he forgot to feed his snakes, and could I please remind him during the daytime, when he could do something about it. So on Monday morning I reminded him to feed his snakes. Marion was home and told Jared to take the snakes out of the freezer, let them defrost, and then Marion would do the feeding. Jared took the mice out to defrost. Marion had gotten up and gone to seminary to help our Bishop that morning, and decided to lay back down in Jared's room. When the timer went off, I took the mice up to the snake cage. I put a mouse in the bottom of two brown lunch sacks. I then made Marion reach up from where he was lying and lift each of the snakes into the bags. This all seemed to be going really well. Next I was adjusting the bags a bit so I could close the lid. As I tried to tip one of the bags on it side, I suddenly felt a small prick on my thumb. What happened next is a bit of a blur, but it involved lots of screaming and me flinging my hand in the air with the snake attached to my thumb. At some point the snake decided to let go of me and it landed on the floor on the other side of the room. I am now dancing around and yelling at Marion to get up and catch the snake. He is telling me that snakes do not bite, but I have two tiny red spots of blood on my thumb to prove otherwise. I run from the room still screaming and Marion tries to get up and get the snake. By now it is no where to be seen. I am less than thrilled by this, as my neighbor lost one of her kids corn snakes in her house for about 3 months. I think about begining to pack and go to a hotel for the next few months until the snake resurfaces because I know that I will not be able to live in my house if that snake is not locked safely in its cage. Diana is now wondering what all the screaming is about. Marion and I try to lift up all of the things on the floor of Jared's room, but do not find that snake anywhere. We finally narrow it down to being under the desk in the corner of Jared's room. In order to lift the desk, Marion had to move several things, including a fish tank on top of the desk. Finally he is able to lift the desk, and I look under it and spot the snake. Marion then moves the desk and picks up the escapee. Now he needs to put everything back together. He makes me hold the snake while he does this. Once again, I am not impressed, but it is better than having it get loose again. He is slowly adjusting everything, which includes cords to the several different things in Jared's room. I tell him that he needs to hurry before I pass out. Finally the snake is returned and I go off in search of some sort of sedation that can return my heart rate to normal. I was feeling a bit sleepy before this, but I have to admit to be much more awake after it was all said and done.
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