I was just about to go to bed. It had been a long day full of purchases, such as shoes for me and Scout. (courtesy of Grandma) As I was walking to the bathroom I felt something move underfoot. I jumped forward only slightly at first, then I leaped up to the bathroom counter. What was under my foot was a very small, yet very scary snake! Early on in the day the doors to the house had been open for a long period of time. My dad had left the stove on and a pan with bacon grease burned. Thus, filling up the house with smoke, so of course, the smoke had to be set free. This is why the doors were open. The little snake must have taken advantage and entered at that time. I screamed "snake" and my parents started with a plan to fix the problem. My Mom put on her boots and retrieved the broom from the closet. Just when she was about to attack the animal my Dad said,"Irene don't kill it." My Mom proceeded to whack the snake until death while saying, "Yes Jim, I'm going to kill it. I'm killing it." She sounded crazy. My Dad scooped the snake up and took it to the outside garbage as instructed by my Mom and myself. We all settled down and went to sleep. (Scout was not harmed, whacked, or woken by the beating of the snake)

