When I was younger, my Grandparents kept this life-sized, jewel-eyed snake on the bottom of their staircase to keep us kids from going up the stairs and possibly falling and cracking our noggins open. It was a big wooden staircase so i can understand why we were banned from climbing around there unless they were around. The snake worked.. we were all scared of this thing and swore it moved when we went near it.
This past year, both my Grandparents passed away, and their house was sold. I wondered what happened to the snake. It turns out my father had taken it out of the house during the big cleanout before it was put on the market. It now resides in my living room in Suburbia. And it's going to stay there too... this sort of thing is more important to me than anything of monetary value. The snake is full of memories, and you can't buy those.
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