judifilksign: (Default)
 Sparkle has been on an Indiana Jones kick of late, thanks to Wii's Lego Indy game.  She's also seen the movies, and seems undisturbed by the scary sequences.

So tonight, as I was cuddling with Sparkle after an Indy run, she was quoting at length from bits of the movie.  Then, she told me it was my turn to say something from the movie.

All I could come up with was "I hate snakes."

Sparkle said.  "I hate snakes, too, mommy.  There was a snake in my bed once."

And so there was, back in December 2008 "Snake II, Return of the Bitten":  http://judifilksign.livejournal.com/39586.html

I find myself excited that not only does Sparkle remember this event, but that she was able to relate it to me tonight!
judifilksign: (Default)
In the bathroom, I hear my darling daughter making "Eep" and other girly sounds, just like I did moving the snake from her bed this weekend.

I look in, to see Sparkle holding a small black and green snake by the tail, using Barbie to keep it's wiggling form away from her! AAUGH! I yearn towards her but don't move, not wanting to freak her or the snake out.

She puts it inside the Buzz Lightyear shuttle, and I realize it's just rubber. There is another, bright orange rubber toy snake installed in the space plane already. I left her to work out her snake stuff without me losing it behind her.
judifilksign: (India)
Snake again this morning. Why does it always have to be snakes?

Sparkle wet the bed. My son came in to tell me Sparkle had told him she was wet. I get up, and Sparkle explained "I saw snake, and I wetted." The damp was still warm. I run the water in the tub, and got the sheets and blankets into a laundry basket, shaking gently - no snakes in the bed, at least.

"Where was the snake? Can you show me where you saw it?" I ask gently after bathing her and getting her dressed in the bathroom, avoiding her room for the present.

"No."

A "No," but not a scared no; a matter-of-fact no. This is good.

"Honey, I want to look for the snake, and make it go away." I'm very proud of my voice, I sound calm, cheerful and betray no quiver of the apprehension I actually feel. I also am taking her at her word this time.

"Yes, go away. But it's not there."

"Was it a bad dream?" I ask hopefully as we enter the living room. (Please?)

"Dere!"

"Where?!?" I look around.

"My Christmas tree!" Sparkle wails, and climbs on top of our buffet, much like the cartoons of women standing on chairs to avoid the mouse.

Under the Christmas tree by the warm air vent blowing - a snake. A small snake, green with two yellow stripes down its back. Maybe it's eight inches long; certainly not as long as a ruler, and thankfully not as long as the one left in Sparkle's bed. Seeing me approach, it slithers quickly towards the basement door, slips through the cat flap, and starts down the steps. I watch it go down, unwilling to chase it.

Snakes have lived in my basement before. I trouble them not. They eat the earwigs when they're small, and the mice when they're big, and I leave them alone, and they live under the washer and under the shelves unless the cats discover them. I decide to leave it - there is no way I'm going to be able to keep track of this critter as fast as it's moving. Yeah, "make it go away" or not, out of sight, out of mind, except I'll watch for signs of cat interference.

Sparkle climbs down from the buffet, comes over, and looks down the cat flap.

"DRAGON!" she calls. "EAT SNAKE!"
judifilksign: (Default)
Apologies about the length. Our PC is not working, and I don't know how to make cuts on the Mac; all the things I know how to do on the PC do not work here.

Sparkle was being a stinker, and refusing to go to bed, running around the house madly, thrashing, stripping out of PJs, and generally being overtired and overstimulated. Trains, dragons, being eaten, snakes & spiders, (the latter two from a Dora the Explorere episode watched earlier) want Mommy Sleep (in bed with me,) water, hungry, gots to go potty, etc.

Out of patience with her, I stuff her back in PJs and plunk her into bed, kiss her, turn out the light (nightlight on) and left.

And the screaming begins. Sparkle flails out of bed, and into the den. I catch her, and put her back in bed, to more incoherent protests. Another flail out of bed, and being put back in. And a third. I finally *snarl* at her that it's past 11:30, and she *will* stay in bed or she'll *find out* just what would happen!

Sparkle scoots to the foot of the bed, wailing. I finally understand a word - "s-s-s-s-NAKE!" That blasted Dora episode! I'm tired of this! I want to go to bed mySELF...

"There *is* no snake; that was just TV!" I snap.

"SNAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!" Sparkle wails.

"There is *NO* snake, and I'll prove it to you!" I say, whipping back the covers on her bed.

Of course, there was, in fact, a snake in her bed. I feel immediately guilty. She actually told me exactly what the issue was, and I was so certain it was her echolalia, repeating dialog from the stupid TV show, I ignored and bullied her when she was in actual fear. Great. And, my darling husband being out of the house, it falls to me to deal with this. Augh!

Bitten from head to tail in many, many places, the dark green snake with two long yellow stripes writhed weakly when I touched it. (Jump back!) It was as long as my arm, with a lump in the middle of it - I think a mouse it had eaten. I think it came in a mouse hole, ate a mouse, and then couldn't leave back the way it came in. The cats clearly had tormented it for a while. No blood, but holes everywhere, though.

Again remembering my inner Steve Irwin, I grab a Barbie and pick up the wretched thing by the tail, and use Barbie's legs like a branch to keep it from raising upwards to bite me. The inside of the snake's mouth was white, no fangs, thankfully. I am aware that I am making girly eeping noises each time it moves or hisses.

I get it to the back door, and put it down to open the door (geeking, geeking, must postpone geeking, not doing a good job of not geeking) and go to pick it back up, go to pick it back up, (c'mon, you did this to get it outta the bed, you can *do* this) child wailing in the background "I'm scared! Mommmmmy...." go to pick it up, yes, pick it up!

I resist the urge to *fling* it out into the yard; it's suffered enough and I'm sure it will die in the cold freezing temperatures outdoors, but it need not be put in unneccessary pain. I tiptoe out into the wet, sleety snow mix (wet socks!) and put it under a bush with its head by a snake hole I'd seen a snake come out of before, and it just lay there. I look at it, expecting I don't know what. I hear Sparkle wailing. I went in. (It was gone this morning, whether down the hole or into something else's belly, I don't know.)

I did not try to put Sparkle back in SnakeBed; she slept with me last night, little arms wrapped around me. She got her MommySleep, and I rather wanted her by me all night anyway. She slept the night through for the first time since before the train, and woke up loving and cheerful.
judifilksign: (Default)
 So, yesterday, following the demise of the Zombie Queen's snake, four boys decided a funeral would be in order.

Solemnly, they took turns digging a hole in the garden.  With careful respect, the eldest gently took a stick and lay the snake to rest in a gentle coil, like he was sleeping.  Each boy took turns shoveling (with the back of the shovel, mind) dirt gently over the snake until the grave was filled.  Time for the homilies.

"Um, snake, we didn't know you, and now you're dead.  Um.  Goodbye."

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.  Do we need to burn something for the ashes?"

"Dearly beloved, here lies the snake.  It's dead.  We buried it.  I hate snakes."

"I was really mad at that cat for killing you, snake.  It was really mean of it to kill you.  I wish I could've watched."

I get *soooo* many brownie points for not laughing out loud during the ceremony.

And with a rock engraved "RIP Bit" with an old nail, we had our grave.  (Was it because the snake "bit it?"  I don't know, and didn't ask.)
judifilksign: (Default)
 The kittehs hunted down and killed a small garden snake inside our house.  I expect it got in through the drain in the basement;  we've had little snakes down there hunting earwigs and spiders before.

The boys found it in the kitchen this morning, full of bites and luckily for my fortitude, already dead.

When the kids I'm watching for the summer arrived, I was showing the snake outside to one of them who'd expressed interest in the dustpan I'd put it in.  About the time the child said "Is it really Dead?  What if it came back to Life?"  a large, nasty spider crawled on my sandal and surprised me.  I looked down when I felt the tickle, and shrieked with surprise, and the pan bounced in my hand, making the snake flop as if it were alive again.  The child shrieked in terror, thinking for just a moment that it *had* come alive again and was out for revenge.

I couldn't have planned a better practical joke if I'd tried.

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