Why I'm Nervous...

For the past 2 Mondays, something not-so-great has happened: I've seen a snake. Granted, it was a little baby garden snake, but in my book, that's still a snake!

The first time I saw one, David was away on a business trip. We had pulled lots of weeds from our backyard over the weekend (it doesn't look so much like a jungle anymore :P) and put the boxes of weeds in the garage until trash day. I was taking the boxes out to the curb and apparently we had given one little guy a ride into the garage because when I moved the first box, a little snake slithered away and under another box.

So I'm standing in the garage in flip-flops, groaning. There's no way I'm going to do anything without real shoes on, and on top of that, I'm a little worried about going after it with a shovel with my car so close. I can just imagine having to explain a dent in my door and blaming it on this little snake...

What did I do, you ask? I called David's dad. :) I shut the garage door, kept an eye on the door leading into the house, and let David's dad handle the manly job that this wimpy girl didn't want to deal with. He even took all the boxes to the curb for me. While I sat and chatted it up with David's mom. :)

Then last Monday I saw another one. I went out on the back deck to grab the towels that I'd used when I bathed Nala. I was, of course, barefoot, and when I grabbed one towel that had fallen from the railing to the ground, another little baby garden snake slithered out. He slithered away and between the boards of the deck to go under. 

So I got inside and shut the door. And what about the towels, you ask? What else? I made David get those when he came home that night. :)

And now you see why I'm nervous. I'm hoping that this Monday sightings of snakes doesn't become a habit. I'm getting a little tired of being paranoid to walk into my garage or onto the back deck... I don't care if they are just little baby garden snakes; I don't like snakes.