is that an icecube?

i was maybe 17, but probably 16....i was home from a night, more than likely, filled with stupid high school crap, and had probably smoked a bowl or two (which should qualify as 'stupid high school crap', but does not, due to my habbit long thereafter...).
coming home in that state was always a bit of a chore....i had a mother that, as far as i knew, never slept when i was 'out'....she may have pretended, but i really do not think she ever slept (and only now, as a father, do i 'get it'!).
so, overly cautious (aka paranoid), i parked in the street, going so far as to coast into place, and even kept the button depressed on my emergency brake as i raised it to avoid the annoyingly loud click click click click, click.....click! then came the 'shut-the-door-without-really-shutting-it' technique...slow to close....once it touches car....stop....press gently with hip until click (so much clicking!).
and here is the part that is a bit sketchy....i am not wearing shoes for some reason....?
at the back door to the house....the easiest one to enter....i oh-so-slowly start to put my key in the door, without so much as turning on the porch light, which proved to be a big mistake...as i am standing there i feel an icecube on the door mat. ahhh perfect treat to feel on a hot arkansas summer night...just sliding in and out of my toes...so cool...so moist....fondling it like a new found love with a foot fetish....

and that was when reason stepped in with a series of internal questions...

'hey dan, it is hot out here...why is that icecube not melting?'
'hey dan, what the fuck is an icecube doing on the back porch at 12:30 a.m.?'
'hey dan, where the hell are your shoes?'

so......i turned on the light, all the while still fondling my new friend.....i looked down....and being lovingly caressed between my big toe and his neighbor....






was a fucking slug....
i almost threw up.