Snail tale

The teeny weeny snail is responsible for a flood of memories. We were out for an evening walk & it had been raining all afternoon. The snails were out in full force, so it was our mission to try to avoid crunching them. My son couldn't understand why we shouldn't step on them because "they make a cracklish noise". Truth is, I have a soft spot for snails. They helped me to get revenge on a childhood friend.

My grandfather & I had an after-the-rain ritual of going out to a spot by the railroad to pick baskets full of snails. I'd line the baskets with damp leaves & grass, then transplant them to their new home. They'd hang around for a while, but eventually, after I'd been called in for dinner, the snails would have a pow-wow & make plans for evacuation. Obviously, by then time I'd be done dinner & make my way to the basket to check on them, they'd have made their way elsewhere. On the day I needed them to stick around (no pun intended), they understood their assignment & hung about until it was complete.

Tony C needed to be taught a lesson. See, his mother had purchased a pea-green 1980 Honda Hatchback. About a month later, my mom had purchased a horrible two-toned, brown & beige Pontiac Acadian. Tony accused my mom of copying his mom. I accused Tony's mom of being a slowpoke driver. Tony then said he wouldn't play with me anymore. Hmmph! Enter the snails.... To make my point about his mom being a slowpoke (and by no means did I think this was true - it was the only insult I could come up with at the tender age of 7), I decided to cover the C-family's Honda Civic in snails.

I got the reaction I wanted. I also got the responsibility of having to remove my passive pals from the family vehicle after word got out that I was the mastermind behind the stunt. Ashton Kutcher's got nothing on me.