No. Couldn't be.
I shifted a zip lock bag with a knitting project, and a tiny tongue flicked at me.
A snake? A SNAKE!
In the house!
Now realize that I pick up my feet if I drive over one with my car. I hate snakes more than sneaky mice. And Hubby and Younger Son were gone for a couple more hours.
Later, after much tossing of yarn and books (it was in a pile of project stuff), stabbing with shovels, and tears (all mine) Hubby carried him out with a pair of pliers. Two foot long.
I feel slightly traumatized.
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