Yesterday I was inside trying to take selfie-photo’s to prove that I do actually get dressed once in a while, when Jim started yelling, “Lily! Lily! Bring some scissors.” So I got some scissors and ran outside to see what the commotion was all about. That’s when I noticed a snake all caught up in my garden netting. I held onto a tree for moral and physical support. My chickens were dancing around it like the no-brained birds they are. I just kept breathing slowly. I really didn’t want to faint and land on the ground…eye to eye with the snake.
Jim assured me it was a Bull snake and not a rattlesnake. Tiny-Small was dancing with the chickens randomly telling the snake, “You be Ok snake! You be OK, Boy!” I don’t know how she and Jim knew it was a boy, but still…I mostly felt like fainting and what the heck do I now about snake sexing anyway? I do not like snakes. I dream about snakes and those dreams are nightmares. Scary nightmares with snakes exploding out of toilets and snakes filling up my imaginary basements. Snakes make my feet feel all tingly and I feel like I can’t move or breath or run away fast enough. I know other people love snakes, like my husband and his friend Chuck. They LOVE snakes. It’s just my luck, and his too I suppose, that we found each other and got married. I suppose this is what they mean by “opposites attract” …maybe. I mean, at least I never have to wrangle a snake out of the garden on my own, right? Unfortunately for Jim, I had to put my foot down when he thought it would be cool to keep the snake as a pet. I am pretty sure I would have a heart attack the first time the snake went missing, and they always go missing. I watch TV, I’ve heard about snakes on a plane.
Anyway, Jim kept cutting the netting off of the snake and then the snake would squirm into the netting even more. Just thinking about all of that squirming makes me feel a little nauseous. It took a really long time to cut the netting off of the poor snake. I felt terrible, but also really grateful that Jim happened to be home and that he was the one to discover the snake. Now I am worried about rattlesnakes sneaking into my space. I foolishly thought the dogs, cats, and screaming, banshee child would keep them all at bay, but now I know for sure that snakes can and will slither into my garden unannounced. I may never sleep peacefully again.
After Jim got the snake out of the netting he asked if I wanted to touch it. I wanted to scream, “Are you kidding me? Do I look like I want to touch that thing?” Instead I smiled and I touched the snake…twice. As much as I don’t like snakes I don’t like looking like a wuss even more. I didn’t faint and I didn’t die. Phew! Then Jim asked Tiny-Small if she wanted to touch the snake and she said, “No thanks.” I was relieved when she said no because I don’t want her touching random snakes in the wild. That could be dangerous around here. I also don’t want her to be scared of snakes like am so I tried to be brave in front of her. That is hard because I really wanted to run in circles screaming, “Ohhh my gawd! A snake! It’s going to kill us all!” Nobody told me becoming a mother also meant I had to act like a princess in shining armor all the time or that I have to put my fears aside for the sake of my child. I guess nobody talks about that too much before you have kids because then people probably wouldn’t have kids. I mean, if someone had told me I would have to touch snakes, pick up spiders, and clean poop off the floor so often, Tiny-Small might have just been a gleam in her father’s eye forever.
Being the blogger and documentarian that I am, I mostly hid behind my camera taking pictures and making movies. It felt safer that way. Plus, now I can tell people I photographed a snake and did not die. I can’t wait to put that under the “bragging rights” section of my Google plus profile. Take that world! I pet snakes like a boss.
Want to read about other dead-eyed beasts that scare me to death? Try this: Have I Mentioned My Absurd Fear Of Sharks?