When I was little, my whole fam lived in Venezuela, which was hard because we didn’t speak Spanish very well yet. I was four years old at the time. Anyways, we had this very straight faced, emotionless maid named Carla working for us. She always did a splendid job cleaning for us without speaking much because of the language barrier between us. So one day she comes up to my mom and says “cuaima… baño”, completely without emotion, and my mom doesn’t understand so she just laughs and goes “ok, sí, gracias” and continues on with her day. Well Carla comes up and says “cuaima” again to my mom the next day, and the next, and continues once a day for a week and a half. My mom is finally like, this must be pretty important if she keeps bringing it up, and grabs a dictionary and looks up the word ‘cuaima’. Well cuaima is defined as a very poisonous snake in Venezuela, so my mom freaks out and runs up to Carla like “DONDE ESTÁ LA CUAIMA”. Carla calmly walks over to the toilet and just points, and sure enough, a big black snake pops it’s head out of our toilet every couple minutes. So my mom and dad are like “what the heck do we do”, and devise a plan that they’re just going to pour some Drain-o down the toilet, and wait with an axe until something happens. This is really exciting stuff so of course me and my sisters gathered around to watch. So my dad pours the Drain-o, and about ten seconds later, this giant snake springs out the toilet and is furiously writhing all over our bathroom floor. So creepy. My dad swings the axe and chops the snakes head clean off and leaves a giant dent in our bathroom floor. Then Carla snatched the axe from him and chops the snake into, I’m not exaggerating, fifty different pieces. Our bathroom is covered in snake guts and blood. But, anyways, the point of this story is, after this happened I couldn’t use the bathroom by myself until I was ten, and I didn’t conquer my fear of actually sitting on a toilet seat until I was thirteen.
That story was wild from start to finish, holy shit
