Snakes are bad.

I was cooking dinner and Justin and Jeremy were outside playing, doing man things. I called them to dinner and at that exact moment, Justin says, "Get him inside." I look down and see a black slithery thing. I said, "Jeremy come here," realized that he doesn't listen when I say "come" and quickly grabbed him and pulled him inside and shut the door. 

We looked out the window at Justin trying to find the snake that had crawled (slithered) underneath a couch in our back room. He had the shovel in his hand and I was so proud. I remember my dad killing snakes in our backyard with a shovel . . . except Justin had Jeremy's toy shovel. Still, it's not plastic. 

So we watch and I say to Jeremy, "When Mommy says 'Come,' what do you do?" and he said, "Come." I said, "That's right. There's a snake out there and snakes are dangerous." We talked about how snakes are mean and bad and they will bite and hurt you. I don't want him to be scared of snakes, but I want a healthy fear.

My son loves to pick up grasshoppers that are minding their own business and once in a while, he kills them as he transports them from the tree to the plants. I don't want him trying to pick up a snake. 

Ewww . . . thankfully, the snake is gone and I am praying . . . just praying     . . . that there are no snake babies.