Is it just me, or does any other mom practically fall to her knees at the sound of her husband pulling into the driveway at day’s end? I have actually been known to hang out the window in anticipation of catching a glimpse of salvation itself driving—far too slowly I might add—down our street.

If the preceding paragraph resonated with you, I’ve no doubt you’ll understand my frustration over the fact that, 26.8 seconds after pulling into the driveway this evening, my husband had yet to don the doorstep. What could he be doing? I wondered. Deep breathing before being welcomed back to the jungle? Because that’s totally not okay.

I quickly ascertained (after I thrust my head out the window to assess what on earth could possibly be keeping the man) that something big was happening outside. My first clue was David’s demands for a shovel. My second clue was this sight:

Yes, indeedy. That is a 3-foot long diamondback rattlesnake slithering down the sidewalk. I mean, it’s not slithering anymore. This photo was taken after the thing was slaughtered. But it was slithering a few moments prior. And let me tell you, it was not out for a Sunday drive. It was trying to beat his buddy’s best 5K time. RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE. My sister says I should restrain from using all caps unless I’m truly yelling. I assure you, I am. Because the magnitude of this event registered at 21.7 on Liz’s Richter Scale of Not Okay.

David has forever claimed that should we ever experience any sort of sewage leak in our home, it goes up for sale immediately. I have forever claimed the same repercussion in the event that a rattlesnake is ever spied—even if only with binoculars—from anywhere within the official boundary of my home.

Which is why the sight of the following almost put me six feet under.

Because this is wholly normal, right? To find your 8-year-old son petting a dead rattlesnake that your husband has just slaughtered on the sidewalk right in front of your house? (Those 19 words almost require all caps; I’ll tone it down to italics instead.)

What occurred after that can only be described as He Who Is All That Is Good and Holy Even If Occasionally a Bit Confusing testing the seriousness with which I made the aforementioned threat to vacate the state in which I live.

Henry began rattling the snake’s rattle. You know, to see what it sounded like. At which point, every kid on the street received a lesson from David in, “If you hear this, run.” Which I found simultaneously completely absurd and downright frightening given that this group of children is consistently so loud that they wouldn’t hear a backfiring dump truck preparing to run them over let alone a rattlesnake daintily requesting that they get the hell out of his way.

I won’t be recovered for days. Possibly ever. The kids are now enjoying the confines of the four walls of this house. Where they will remain for the foreseeable future. Until I can afford to sell this place for the $22.75 it’s presently worth.

*Photo courtesy of this guy