Slithering Serpents, Batman!

As the girls and I left to pick up Jack earlier, I heard the giant bush out front rustling.  I look over and staring back at me from the top of it, tongue flickering, was a snake.  A SNAKE.  Yep, you read that correctly, S-N-A-K-E.  Now I'm not talking a python but it was bigger than a worm and that's big enough to scare the snot right out of me.  Honestly, I'm amazed that my hair didn't turn pure white on the spot.  (Maybe it is under the overpriced highlights?)  At any rate, I instinctively swung Queen B's carrier behind me and whispered, "OH SWEET JESUS!!!" because even in moments of abject terror, I apparently have the foresight not to scare The Madam who would never, ever, EVER leave the house again -- not for candy, new lip gloss or a playdate with Cinderella -- if she knew that there was a snake in a 50 mile radius.

Mr. Snake did a little swaying dance that seemed to mock me and the idea that the property is mine rather than his and disappeared down into the bush.  I have hated said bush since we moved in and will see that it and its shrubbery siblings are removed posthaste.  Yes, I know that Mr. Snake could still hang around even without the bushes.  Tom was quick to point that out to me (probably because he doesn't want to pull out the bushes and risk disturbing Snaketown.)  I don't care as much if the reptile is on the ground though.  Eye level is way too close for comfort and God forbid that stupid thing fell off the bush and into Bonnie's carrier.  I like to think I know what choice I would make but I really don't want to be faced with the options of pulling a snake off my sweet baby or fleeing to safety, shrieking, "EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF!!!"

Have I mentioned that I miss city life?  Oh, concrete jungle, how I long for you and your lack of nature!