I'm sure you've put together now that this particular story involves a snake, in a very unlikely place...my classroom floor.
One morning, we are using the restroom and following all routines like any other day. From my classroom door I look into the hallway (checking on the water fountain) and back into my room (checking on the rotations). In a very "Terminator" sort of way, my eyes focus on something small, curled, and black underneath my teaching table. Instinctively, I know this small thing is a snake. A very tiny snake.
"No, No..." I think, "It is far too small." In my happen-to-be-wearing-boots bravery, I walk over and nudge what I am telling myself is a leather shoe string. It doesn't move.
"Good, the shoestring is dead...where's its mother?" In my doubt, I call over J...my randomly determined "bravest student" because he didn't freak out with the beginning of the year massive spider incident.
"Hey J, come over here"
"Yeah, Miss Wishon"
"Do you think that is a snake or a worm?" I whisper, so as not to alarm the other children.
J crouches down inspecting the snake - I knew he was the bravest. His little eyes fixed on the snake, don't even look up as he says, "That's a snake."
"Are you sure?"
He looks at the snake, then up at me..."Its got a head, that's a snake." The most matter of fact statement I have ever heard from a first grader.
At this point, everyone knows what's up...I stop our lives, "On Pause" we like to call it. I make my kids promise not to tell any other classes cause they'll be jealous. We agree it is okay to tell our classmates who happened to attending pull out services during this time. We line up and head to lunch as if all was quiet on the classroom front.
I find a custodian. "There's a snake." is all I can think to say. I explain that it's only a baby, but that also leaves me wondering:
1. How did it get here?
2. Where is the mother?
3. Where are the other babies?
At this point, I eat some lunch assuming they will take care of this sooner rather than later. I'm wrong. My class walks into the room simply vibrating with excitement over our unwelcome dead pet. I have already said it should be gone. It isn't. Everyone has to look at and talk about it.
I start making phone calls, and am finally assured that someone is on the way. Relieved I turn around to witness D and J closest to the teaching table, with everyone else gathered about 3 large steps behind.
D: "Out! Out of here, SNAKE!"
Me: "D, it's dead already...what are you doing?"
D: Holds up piece of paper with the word God and The Cross written/drawn on it.
D: "Miss Wishon, that snake is the devil and this (holds up make-shift cross) is the only way to get rid of it."
Me: Thank You, but please sit down.
This was right up there with the smell detective.
