Snakes....snakes....snakes :S - I wrote this back in September but but decided to post today.

Sit back my friends and let me tell you a story. To begin with I am afraid of snakes. This is a SERIOUSLY irrational fear. As we were finishing up with the horses today we drove by our water hole which is dwindling and noticed some minnows that were trapped. Being the ice fishermen we are we determined that these needed to be saved, however, an 18 inch snake was down there and that meant I was NOT going to help. Kent in his chivalrous best handed me his 9mm to take care of the problem. Three carefully executed shots later and the snake was no longer an issue, still moving but with assurances from Kent that they do that and I had in fact killed it, I felt like I had taken a step toward conquering my fear. Donning our barn boots and equipped with a bucket and net we headed toward the hole. As I got to the edge where I would have to get on my hands and knees and scootch under the fence another one showed up. A BIG one. Probably the momma to the other one or definitely a very big brother. This is where it gets good. I jumped back, did my best 3 year old middle of the toy aisle at Walmart tantrum dance and ran away, screeching for Kent. Mind you just prior to this I had asked if he brought the 9mm (which he hadn’t) and he promised he’d step on anymore snakes should they appear. The tears started, Kent laughing grabbed a branch and headed toward it asking me to come over and show him where it was. You know that voice a toddler uses when it doesn’t want to go to bed...the crying, whining, voice. Yep I adopted that. “Nooooo, it might come get me.” “I can’t find it, it probably went down a hole,” Kent chuckled amused at my antics. Now understand that I KNEW how dumb I sounded and looked, but COULD NOT control it, which made me laugh. So at this point I am laughing, crying, and whining like a small child. Kent forced me to look around the spot to show him where it was since I had REFUSED to come near the fence until he killed it. I tried, I really did. I wiped my tears, took a deep breath, looked…and dry heaved, and dry heaved, and drooled, and laughed, and cried, and dry heaved, and drooled. “Come on, you can hold the branch,” encouraged my husband trying his best not to completely break down in tears of laughter. I mean he had his lips pinched so tightly together I feared he’d push his own teeth out. “Nooooo, (insert dry heaving sound of choice) it might (heave) crawl up it and get me (heave)” escapes my mouth as my mind says, “Angel, this is ridiculous!” After some serious coaching from my husband, I made Kent stand directly in front of me and made my way under the fence, MUCH farther down. We walked to the minnow hole and saved the minnows (Insert heroic cheering and applause). I am now recovering, this was seriously traumatic. I’m wrung out – more than at the end of a good showing of Titanic on a PMS night. Through all of this though, Kent has suggested that maybe I really have made progress….even though I regressed to my former 3 year old sleep deprived self, I did not pee myself….this time.