Hold the snakes
After my last post, I've been thinking a lot about snakes.I hate snakes. HATE them. I have felt that way as long as I can remember. I especially hated when my older brothers would find a garter snake in our backyard and bring it over.No, thank you. NO.Now, years later, I have six children. Four of them are girls. And they all LOVE snakes. What? Why? Whenever we would go to the zoo, the snake and reptile exhibits were always the must-do items. Not the gorillas, or the cute koalas, or the elephants...the SNAKES! If Brian was with us, I would reluctantly go. I would walk with my kids through those buildings that smelled like sweat and pee, pretending to be interested in the hundreds of snakes you could barely see in the back of the exhibit. I despised it.When Brian wasn't there though, I never went to the snakes. I'd purposely delay and delay and delay until it was time to go home, and our snake watching would have to wait. Hurrah! I considered it a win on those days. My children did not.In 2012, at a Snow family reunion, one of the activities was visiting a place called SNAKE WORLD! Can you even imagine? I did NOT go to that, and I kept my little girls with me as well. Brian took the older three kids and toured the creepy snake house, because honestly, that's exactly what it was. Gross.
In contrast, Brian is a lover of all creatures, great and small. I attribute this to his California upbringing. While I was pulling off a grasshopper's legs and using a magnifying glass to set him on fire, I imagine Brian was gently picking up lost and confused frogs and helping them to safety. I can easily imagine this, because I have WATCHED him do it here in Texas. He PICKED UP a snake, WALKED it over to the park, and let it go, peacefully.I watched in amazement. SOOOO California.A couple of years ago, we went to Branson, Missouri. They have a privately owned zoo there, and we decided to go. Part of the experience was getting to hold some of the baby animals. I was super excited. They brought out a baby kangaroo, and a bat-eared fox. They were darling. And then? The next animal was a snake. A SNAKE! Oh help me. I had NO intention of even touching that thing, but because I love my kids (who were dying for me to hold it), I held it. It was the scariest moment I had ever had with a snake.
Until now.A few weeks ago, the most UNBELIEVABLE thing happened. I still can't believe it actually happened. But it did. I swear.We were busy getting ready for school. I asked Julie to feed our dog. I was helping the little kids get all their things together. I heard the door open, and then Julie started screaming. Truthfully, Julie has been known to scream at other random times (to be funny or annoying), but this was different. Her screams were loud and terrifying.Something was wrong.I looked over at her as she screamed, "a snake is in our house!"In one mighty leap, I jumped onto the ottoman in my living room. I was in pure panic mode. In fact, I started crying. Not full-out blubbering, but I was close. I had not seen the size of the snake, but it didn't matter. I was freaking out."Please don't do this to me...you know I am so scared of snakes! Please, Julie, please!!"That's what I said...cried...sobbed...whatever. Please don't do this to me? What the??? It was ridiculous and embarrassing, but I couldn't help it.Julie looked over at me, cowering on the ottoman. "FINE!" She went to the laundry room and came out with our kitchen broom. I watched intently.With a menacing war-cry, she pointed the broom at the snake and mashed it into a corner wall by my bedroom. At this point, I had stepped down from the ottoman. My mom-sense had started to seep back into my brain, and I told Julie to keep holding the snake there while I got the dustpan. I returned in a couple of seconds and she pulled the broom back. The snake (about 10") dropped to the floor.I couldn't tell if it was stunned or dead, but I didn't care. I lifted that thing into the dustpan, booked it across the street, and threw it onto the grass. It didn't move. I think it was dead.I walked back into my house, put the dustpan away, and took my kids to school.The whole ordeal was freaky. And now when I open the door to go outside, I make sure to stand BEHIND it, like a crazy person, just in case more rogue snakes are lying in wait, trying to get into my house.I HATE snakes.
Until now.A few weeks ago, the most UNBELIEVABLE thing happened. I still can't believe it actually happened. But it did. I swear.We were busy getting ready for school. I asked Julie to feed our dog. I was helping the little kids get all their things together. I heard the door open, and then Julie started screaming. Truthfully, Julie has been known to scream at other random times (to be funny or annoying), but this was different. Her screams were loud and terrifying.Something was wrong.I looked over at her as she screamed, "a snake is in our house!"In one mighty leap, I jumped onto the ottoman in my living room. I was in pure panic mode. In fact, I started crying. Not full-out blubbering, but I was close. I had not seen the size of the snake, but it didn't matter. I was freaking out."Please don't do this to me...you know I am so scared of snakes! Please, Julie, please!!"That's what I said...cried...sobbed...whatever. Please don't do this to me? What the??? It was ridiculous and embarrassing, but I couldn't help it.Julie looked over at me, cowering on the ottoman. "FINE!" She went to the laundry room and came out with our kitchen broom. I watched intently.With a menacing war-cry, she pointed the broom at the snake and mashed it into a corner wall by my bedroom. At this point, I had stepped down from the ottoman. My mom-sense had started to seep back into my brain, and I told Julie to keep holding the snake there while I got the dustpan. I returned in a couple of seconds and she pulled the broom back. The snake (about 10") dropped to the floor.I couldn't tell if it was stunned or dead, but I didn't care. I lifted that thing into the dustpan, booked it across the street, and threw it onto the grass. It didn't move. I think it was dead.I walked back into my house, put the dustpan away, and took my kids to school.The whole ordeal was freaky. And now when I open the door to go outside, I make sure to stand BEHIND it, like a crazy person, just in case more rogue snakes are lying in wait, trying to get into my house.I HATE snakes.