... about how they thoroughlytotallycompletely freaked my mother out. She was so un-nerved by them, she would not even say the word 'snake', but would only say 's-word' in reference to the reptiles. I don't know why - but she was undone by snakes. Don't start Freud-ing on me. I never understood her, and certainly can't begin to explain her now.
Over the years, when I was till living in the house they built and I grew up in, there were a number of times Mr. No-Shoulders would be an uninvited visitor. The last one I recall getting out of the house was in the room where the TV was, where they spent lots of time sitting, viewing or reading, resting or relaxing. An addition to their home they loved and lived in. I got the broom and swept it out the door.
Another one was in the bathroom. I got a shoe box, and the broom and swept it into the box, clapped the lid on and called my cousin, the snake lover, to come and get it. (He had snakes deliberately living in their house - I am still astounded his mom allowed that.) And the very last one that I remember being in that house was one my brother exorcised. He said mom told him she would see it scooching across the floor and just pull her feet up onto the couch to be safe. He found it wrapped around the warm, cozy tube in the innards of the TV. I assume got it uncoiled from it's nesting place and took it outside for release. Creepers!!!!
I don't like 'em and certainly don't want to live in the house with them, but I know that in their place in creation, they have a purpose. Designed to be beneficial predators, as well as a vital part of the food chain higher up. But I do get along much better when I don't have encounters, up close and personal.
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