How to Kill Your Mother

I have a real live phobia of snakes. I don't mean I dislike snakes or find them icky. I mean that I stop breathing when presented with a photo of a snake and freeze in terror when spotting one in person.

I had plenty of opportunities to get over this phobia through the desensitization technique of a childhood in rural Nevada spent horseback riding through miles of sage brush and undeveloped government land. I never did.

This morning, Bug went out to clean the dog run and came charging back into the house to let me know a snake was hanging out next to the pooper scooper. His sister, obviously not my child, went running out the front door TOWARD THE SNAKE to see if she could identify it!!!

They have since determined it was a garter snake and scared it back toward the creek through the use of a Scottish bagpipe made out of an empty toilet paper roll and straw.

I still can't put my feet on the floor.

I didn't birth them. They are not mine.