S is for....

Well, my Goodwill days may have just come to an end.

"WHAT" you say, "this is your favorite thing to do, it's an integral part of your new 'job' and a major stress reliever... what ever could have happened?"

I am so glad you asked... Here's the story:

So, yesterday after our play date, I took the girls to mom's house to take a nap while I went thrifting to restock my supplies. I had hit 3 stores and hadn't found hardly anything, so I went home to see what I had to work with.

I checked my email and found that the owner of the store had sent a message that a customer wanted a custom order for a wreath. Great! But I would have to run back out to the Goodwill (which is almost never a chore, I might add) and pick up a few sweaters. It was 99 cent Wednesday, so it couldn't wait.

I jumped in the car, drove over there (in rush hour, rain included). What a joy when I saw a friend from church that I got to chat with for a few minutes... I found a couple of things I could work with and was headed for one last looky-lou through the sweater aisle.

Feeling great that I had my first custom order from the store and even more thrilled that Christmas music was playing over the loud speaker, I hummed along and searched through the neatly hung clothes for that last diamond in the rough.

"When, what to my wandering eyes should appear...?"** but a SNAKE... and I can't finish the rhyme because I just pooped my pants again... (just kidding) But SERIOUSLY, a SNAKE slithered out from between the sweaters I was perusing, over the top of the neatly hung clothes and over into an abandoned basket sitting next to mine.

Hold on, I need to breathe.... Ok, so I FREAKED. And promptly freaked a lady who was shopping next to me. She agreed to stand guard, armed with a plastic hanger aimed in the general direction of the beastly creature, while I ran to get someone to help.

After regaining my composure and when the dizzying 'I'm going to faint' feeling left, I ran to the front desk to tell the guy that the devil himself had almost just slithered onto my hand... His first reaction: "No, there's not a snake..." Um, really dude, do you see the color of my face??? I am a Caucasian woman, but not usually this shade of white!

When he realized I was serious, he ran over with the excitement of a little boy, picked the thing up and ran to the back with it. From that moment on, we would hear faint little screams of varying pitch and degree coming from the stock room at the Goodwill. He had a little fun with it.

So this brings me back to the first sentence.... There were about 3 or 4 hours after the terrifying event that I seriously thought my days of going to the Goodwill may be over. I've seen roaches bigger than my foot, and various and sundry other gross things, but this takes the cake. The one and only thing that I am deathly afraid of and the one thing that you would NEVER in a million years expect to see..... I saw. Now, the only reason I've come back around, is because the actual probability of this ever happening again are slim (at least that's what I've tried to convince myself).

I am just glad that the ole ticker continued to tick and I didn't fall dead of a heart attack right then and there!

**Of course these are the words to the beloved poem by Clement Clark Moore "Twas the night before Christmas" Gotta give credit where credit is due.