S is for Sssssssssscary

I don't care for snakes.  Not that I'm terrified of them...I would gladly definitely probably maybe hold a non-venomous snake.  I'm pretty sure my husband holds a slightly more severe stance on the slithering creatures.

Recently, as well as periodically over the past several years, there have been a fair number of rattlesnake killings at the pig barn and at my in-laws house.  This would not terrify me so much if my children didn't frequent these two places as often as they do.  And to add to that anxiety, their mother is almost never present to protect them from an unexpecting rattler.

So.  What's a momma to do?

Well, I try to scare the "you know what" out of them.  I explained to them in detail the logistics of a rattlesnake bite, and how the venom is injected into one's skin through the fangs.  That they would definitely have to go to the hospital.  They could possibly die.  The pain.  You know, I paint the whole picture.

Then I repeat the following to them as often as I feel prompted:
-Always look where you're walking/running.
-Do NOT run through the fields or pastures by yourself.
-Stay by an adult when in these places.
-Run as fast as you can the other way if you EVER see a snake.
-Don't pick up random stuff that you don't know what is underneath.

The above applies mostly to rattlers, but I'd prefer no snakes to encounter my children or vice-versa.

Well, yesterday morning after I heard the garage door open and was waiting to hear the beeping of the door letting me know the my hubby was home, one of my girls brought me my phone with him on the other end.  He urgently asked me to go fetch the hoe or anything made of sharp metal from the backyard.

In my robe, I proceeded to follow his directions, nearly flashing my neighbor in the process.  I didn't really have a choice though.

This is the threshold from the garage into our house.

This is not how he found it as he opened the door to come inside.

In fact, as he opened the door, there was a visitor there trying to make himself welcome in the house.

Luckily, my husband is a fierce snake warrior and wielded his hoe bravely....resulting in a decapitation....thankfully.

It didn't quite hit me until later that I go out into our garage multiple times daily, BAREFOOT none the less, to get necessities from the outside freezer and refrigerator.  Thank goodness I had not needed anything out there yesterday morning!

It would have surely gotten into the house and then what would I have done?!?

Probably something along these lines:
1.  Screamed bloody murder
2.  Gotten my kids to "safety"
3.  Frantically searched the house for something to use as a guillotine.
4.  Most likely would have come up short, left with my only choice being a butcher knife.
5.  By then, it would have found a nice, secret hiding place....thereby leaving me and the girls no choice but to sit on our bed until their dad the hero got home.
6.  Gone into labor.

The End.

By the way, this fella turned out to be a vicious garden snake that I'm positive wanted to take my chubby baby girl back to it's den to share with all the other vicious, hissing creatures around our house.

Horribly vicious.

At least it didn't have a noise-making mechanism on it's tail like some OTHER snakes I know.  Thank heavens for that.