Personal Statement

Personal Statement

Friday, February 7, 2014

Snakes on the Brain



So when we had an outside workday a few weeks back, I mentioned to the boys offhand that they should look for snakes when displacing pots, stepping stones and odd bits of wood.  Spouse reminded me that, right now, snakes are hibernating, but I did not choose to correct my statement, because I think that "watchful for snakes" is a generally good thing to be in North Texas, seasonal factors notwithstanding.

My mistake.

The kids didn't have school today, so Mom and Dad got to sleep in a bit before getting up for work.  The kids got up at their regular times, though (with more energy than is typical - can anyone explain this phenomenon to me?), and spoke to each other in quiet voices, or what they consider to be quiet voices, which actually are not quiet at all, so as a result I heard them negotiating who would fill pet food bowls and who would let the dogs out.  Little Kid got dog duty.

A few seconds later, Little Kid announced, in a not-at-all-quiet voice:

THERE IS A SNAKE IN DAD'S OFFICE.

When he did not receive an immediate response, he issued a follow-up:

I REPEAT, THERE IS A SNAKE IN DAD'S OFFICE.

This got the Big Kid hurrying in his direction; Spouse, sort-of-awake; and me, sitting up, but not getting up.  (I mean, who runs toward a snake without knowing what kind of snake it is?  Also, I have Spouse for that:  he grew up on a ranch, and that has to be good for something.)

Muffled conversation between Big Kid and Little Kid followed, and then:

OKAY, NO, NEVER MIND - WAIT, YUP, IT'S A SNAKE, ALRIGHT.

This got Spouse in motion.  One-thousand-one, one-thousand-two, and from my position several rooms away I hear, from Spouse:

THAT, dear child, is a TWIST TIE.

followed by Little Kid's immediate retort:

HEY!  I CANNOT AFFORD TO TAKE ANY CHANCES.

This last statement had me doubled over with laughter.  He can't afford not to take chances, why, exactly?  Because he's planning a run for political office?  Thinks he's the odds-on-favorite to cure cancer some day?  Is he John Connor?  Should I expect Ah-nold to show up for me, saying, "COME WITH ME IF YOU WANT TO LIVE?"  Should I expect Buff Ah-nold, or Paunchy Governator-Ah-nold?

Methinks Little Kid just has a highly developed, innate sense of self-preservation.  And, as his momma, I'm A-okay with that.




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