I wrote the story only to show the amusing part of marriage, but it brought attention to what I had cured, and I was soon bombarded with mail, and then everyone started doing it, and the thing is, the cure works. From there, the whole thing just took off . . .
You see, it all started when my wife had the hiccups. We tried the usual cures – she drank a glass of water without breathing, she ate a teaspoon of sugar, she held her nose and didn’t breathe, I even came up from behind and surprised her . . . None of it worked. She hiccupped in rhythmical spasms that shook her cute little frame until tears splashed her jeans.
That’s when I stepped forward. Manly ex-football jocks like me can take the dentist drilling down to our toes without a whimper. We can endure hours bent over figures with a taxman. We can move furniture into fifteen contortions without a flinch, but one tear from our woman turns us into a jellyfish.
I knew I had to do something. I did. I came up with the cure. It was simple really. Think about all those things that usually stop the hiccups – most of them require a gasp, a stoppage of breath. That gave me the clue I needed.
I sent my woman to take a bubble bath. I didn’t think that would do any good, but it would relax her. While she was occupied, I got into my truck and sped over to Hanson’s Pet Store. They had just what I wanted. I picked up my requirement and headed back home.
Janet was just getting out of the bath when I came in. Her skin was glowing pink. I checked it over a bit, but her spasms interfered with my concentration. Then I tried out my favorite cure for hiccups. Unfortunately kisses didn’t solve our problem. That meant, it was time for drastic measures.
I let Janet slip into her underwear and then I brought out my secret weapon. Garden snakes don’t get very large. This one was a young fellow, but he did the trick.
“EHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Janet screamed and kept on screaming until I removed the poor, scared, little snake.
I rushed in, her savior, and she clung very nicely, but then when her panic subsided, she raged at me. I laughed. Her hiccups were gone, of course. After Janet’s spurt of rage, I quieted her beating heart in an extremely pleasant manner.
However, there was an interesting side effect to all this, one I didn’t realize for several weeks. Janet used to get the hiccups lots, but her little snake adventure seems to have cured her permanently.
I wrote the experience up for the local newspaper, and the concept caught on like one of those ditties they sing on TV ads. Soon everyone was humming it, and the nation was buying garden snakes like they were cats or dogs. Scientists started in doing experiments. Grants were given for research projects. The snake cure became everyone’s obsession.
Meanwhile, at my house, little Herman, our new garden snake pet, is doing just fine, and Janet, although she is still not fond of him, has even been seen dropping a cricket or two into his terranium.
Oh, and it’s been a year now, and still not one hiccup!