Leapin’ lizards! Snakes alive! It’s s-s-s-s-summertime
Posted: Friday, May 11, 2012 8:00 pm
By: By Chris Menees
I’m living with a real snake in the grass.
No, I’m not insulting my husband.
And the problem isn’t really a snake in the grass. It’s a snake in the garage.
I’m not overly fond of snakes, but I can tolerate them — as long as they know their boundaries. The snakes can have the entire yard, but the house is my domain.
Period. The end. No wiggle room.
Needless to say, I was less than thrilled last week when I came home, raised the garage door and saw a long black snake curled where my car belongs. I decided the garage wasn’t big enough for the both of us.
So I stopped a few feet short and contemplated my strategy. Then I gunned the vehicle and headed straight for the snake.
It was very anti-climactic — and with good reason.
Troubled that I hadn’t felt a thud beneath my wheels or heard a thump-thump, I turned to Plan B. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my husband inside the house.
When my knight in shining armor/snake wrangler arrived on the scene, there was no snake to be found. It apparently had slithered away when it saw the crazed woman behind the wheel of the car.
Great. I can’t successfully dodge a pothole driving down the street, but I can manage to miss a giant anaconda of a snake coiled right in front of me.
Then I began to wonder about the wandering snake.
“Do you think it was trying to get in or trying to get out,” I asked my husband.
He assured me the snake was trying to get out and then he hit me with his favorite philosophy: “The snake is far more scared of you than you are of him.”
Don’t bet on it, honey.
Still trying to help, he said the snake had probably been in the garage all day long and had slipped in unnoticed hours ago when he had the garage doors raised while mowing the yard.
“Seriously? Not helping,” I replied through gritted teeth.
Last but not least, it was followed by his theory that the snake eats a ton of bugs and mice and is good to have around.
I’m not buying it, dear.
Well, word of our backyard bug buffet must have spread — because the snake has now been joined by its slimy little lizard cousin. We crossed paths last weekend.
Lizards make me dance.
I’ll concede that some lizards are cute. This one isn’t. It’s long and fat and putty-colored with a bright red head.
When I announced the lizard’s arrival to my husband, I cut him off at the pass.
“I know, I know … it’s more afraid of me than I am of it,” I said. “I know, I know … it’s going to eat a ton of bugs and earn its keep.”
After several close encounters with the lizard in recent days, I told him “lizzie” and I were going to have a serious talk.
“I know what your first words will be — aaaaaaaaaahhhhh,” my comedian of a husband said.
With no sympathy from him, I turned to the youngest granddaughter.
“But don’t lizards help your garden,” the wise 10-year-old asked.
My husband never crossed paths with my snake, but he finally met the lizard up close and personal a couple days ago when it waddled from beneath its sidewalk hideaway and toward the garden for a snack.
“Wow, he’s big,” he said. “Just think of the things that run from him.”
Yeah — me.
They don’t say leapin’ lizards for nothin’.
Staff Reporter Chris Menees may be contacted by email at email@example.com.
Published in The Messenger 5.11.12