a few nights ago, i told wes to head upstairs. he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and emptied his pockets on the table. a few minutes later, i walk by and see...
i just left them there and figured i'd get them on my way down to toss them out in the backyard. as we are brushing teeth, chase notices them piled up on the table.
chase: "hey! did you know that there is a pile of snails on this table down here?"
chase: "well, is that where you want them?"
me: "yes, dear husband. i love the idea of a pile of snails on my entryway table."
so, i didn't really say that. my mind immediately goes to sarcasm as a first option.
me: "i'll get them when i come down. just leave them."
chase: "you sure? some of them are mobile."
and sure enough, what i thought was empty snail shells....was not.
i saved that guy from committing suicide. i guess he thought that would be better than riding around in wes' pocket.
now they are all free and partying it up somewhere in the backyard. until wes finds them again.
party on, snails.