Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Snakes on a plain





Meet Stephen (named for Stephen Colbert, of course!). In lieu of a visit from the Easter Bunny, Stephen slithered into our neighbor's yard and was rescued from the lawn mower by the boys. Of course, they wanted to keep him as a pet, but knowing SO's healthy fear of snakes, I knew that wasn't going to happen. They put Stephen in a plastic container full of leaves and grass and we debated about where be should be relocated. There's a lovely rolling plain on the north side of the lake, and we took him there. He's was pretty nervous about the whole thing, and I left a pile of brush for him to crawl into if he got cold. I hope he didn't freeze to death, because the next day, the cold front hit.

Poor Stephen. But at least he kept his head. Whenever my dad saw a snake, he'd always get the shovel and chop it to pieces. He once came across a baby rattler and the poor thing didn't have a chance. Always a practical jokester, my mom didn't believe him at first, until he showed her the mangled body. I've got to give it to my mom. She used the experience to get back at my dad in a big way. Not long after the snake chopping experience, she rushed into the house, screaming and holding onto one leg.

"I've been bit by a rattler!"

"Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness!" Dad was thrown. He didn't know what to do, and resorted to hopping up and down in a panic. She couldn't keep up the charade, and laughed her head off at his reaction. It sounds mean, I know, but he got her so many times with his practical jokes, she was glad to come up with a whopper to pay him back.

1 comment:

QueenBee said...

All snakes must die! I know they are good for something, but they creep me out.