You know that ‘Would You Rather?’ game? The one where you’re presented with two challenging scenarios to choose from, and you weigh the options with friends to determine which seems less bad? I have a good one for you on this fine Monday morning:
Would you rather find a giant worm in your house or a tiny snake?
In our house, we have a finished basement with a pool room – billiards, not swimming – and it was in this room I found myself contemplating that very question. I wasn’t sure which I was looking at, and I couldn’t quite place how I felt. While a giant worm is definitely icky, I’m no friend of snakes.
My policy on snakes is this: If Indiana Jones, one of the bravest and coolest characters to ever exist, is scared of something – it’s a good idea for me to be scared of it, too.
Turns out, it was a baby snake. An itty bitty baby, but make no mistake. IT WAS NOT CUTE. Even the little ones can be dangerous! I’ve always heard that if they’re venomous, the little ones are more dangerous because they haven’t yet learned how to control their venom. Apparently that isn’t true, says science, but I’m not convinced.
More importantly, the presence of a baby snake means only one thing – Mama Snake. And possibly Daddy Snake. And a bunch of big mean snake uncles who come and beat up on anyone who messes with their itty bitty snake nephew! With that in mind, we didn’t hurt the little guy. We caught him and released him in the woods, and I’m proud to say I only screamed twice.
I’m still not sure what kind of snake it was. I’ve never cared to learn their names. In fact, once in school when my son Timothy and his classmates were learning the names of different snakes, he repeated a little nugget of my favorite wisdom: “What kind of snake is this?” asked his teacher. Timothy, my sweet boy, knew just what to say:
“Well my Momma says there is only one kind – if his last name is ‘Snake’, his first name is ‘Dead’!”
That’s right, Timothy. Indiana Jones and I know what’s up.
Happy Monday,
Mary
