Anytime we went out to play, my grandpa would give us a hoe, tell us to watch for snakes, and if we found one, to chop his head off with with the hoe! It wasn't odd for us to see snakes either, but it was no joking matter. If we screamed "SNAKE!!!!" then by gosh, there had better be a snake, because Grandpa was going to be running our to kill it with a gun. He was taking care of us, and didn't think it was a funny joke if we screamed it as a joke.
So, I am not scared of snakes at all. If I come across one, I know exactly what to do. However, I hate snakes. I wish they were all dead. And really, the only thing I enjoy about living in town is that there are no snakes.
So we thought.
Flower and Little Man were out playing in our backyard. I was painting (of course) and Barb Wire Man was painting (of course). Little man came running inside. "Mama!! Ders a shnake in your garden! A big one Mom! Come git it!!"
I looked him square in the eyes and said "We do NOT joke about such things! Snakes could be dangerous, and you do not tell mommy there is a snake when there really isn't! Now go back outside and play...don't touch the paint!!"
Not 10 seconds later, Flower comes in. "MOM! He isn't joking OR lying! There really is a snake in your garden!"
Barb Wire Man and I both dropped what we were doing and ran outside. Here in Texas, it could be a small little garden snake. Then again, it could have been a giant bull snake. Or, it could have been a dangerous rattle snake.
Thankfully, it was just a garden snake. But, it was the biggest garden snake any of us had every seen. After Barb Wire Man let the kids look at it and touch it, he, ahem, beheaded it.
Because I live in town, dangit.
