Just as I was starting to let my guard down (isn't that always the way), I reached for my second cup of coffee this morning and Faucet Snake was stretched out in the dish drain.
I promptly started my pep talk, directed half to myself, half to Faucet Snake. I told him I wasn't afraid of him, and he flicked his tongue at me. I put on a thick pair of winter gloves, then stood in front of the dish drain and tried to talk myself into picking him up. I also readied my plastic container if he went into the sink, although naturally I couldn't find the top.
Did I mention that hubby was at work for weekend duty while this was going on?
We looked at each other. I babbled. He listened. Finally he turned and slithered behind the sugar bowl, behind the coffee maker (although at least this time I did make a half-hearted grab for him), and behind the counter, exactly where I didn't want him to go. Again.
So, at this point, we know:
1) He is not interested in finding a way out of the house;
2) He seems to be staying in the same place;
3) I am a complete weenie for not grabbing him this time.
Now I'm MAD. Not at him, at myself. And being mad at myself is often what fuels me into action.
I say that now. Let's see if I can actually grab him next time.