And now the truth comes out.

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As previously and recently reported, I am terrified of snakes, avoiding them at all costs.

But unfortunately, I’ve had experiences. Mind-numbingly scary experiences. I won’t go into too much detail here, to give myself something to write about when my life gets horribly boring.

Which will be in about 3 days.

Even though I’ve been scared out of my mind by snakes in the past, I’ve always had that place where I felt safe from all slithering evil.

Home.

With the recent events of skin-sightings, snakes have been a common topic of discussion at the Casa de Rae and Steve, making home seem not quite so safe anymore.

Rae: (after looking at the blog stats on my smartphone) Ooo! 6 people have looked at my blog!

Steve: Do you have a new post or something?

Rae: Yeah, I wrote about cutting the grass.

Steve: Seriously?

Rae: Yeah, seriously. It’s not just about cutting the grass. It’s about going out and facing my greatest fear. And hoping to mow down that fear into millions of little bits.

Steve: (Long pause contemplating if he should say the following statement) Okay, honestly, I’ve only killed two snakes that I saw in our yard.

Rae: (complete silence)

Steve: And I’ve only seen them in the far back corner.

Rae: (Frantically) Which corner? The one by the lilac bushes?

Steve: No. The other one.

Rae: You’ve seen two snakes in our yard?!?

Steve: No. Four. I only killed two of them.

Rae: (Fear starts to take over. Breathing slows. Brain fuzzes over.)

Steve: But they only come to our yard to visit. They live in the field. And if they build houses in the field, then they’ll move out. And when they visit, they stick to the backyard.

Rae: Except for the skins that we saw in the front yard.

Steve: Oh yeah.

In light of these new findings, I’ve decided to become a hermit. It’s easier than moving. And yes, I will miss things like going to movies and baseball games and driving my car, but luckily most pizza places deliver, so I should be able to survive pretty easily.

What I don’t really know is if I should appreciate Steve’s new-found snake honesty or if I would have rather lived in a fantasy world where there was a well-trained yet secretive mongoose that lived in the field behind our house, eating all of the snakes and entertaining The Beast during the day by dancing in our yard. And I’d name him Marty.

I can totally believe the mongoose thing. Except that they don’t live in Minnesota. And there’s a possibility that a mongoose might actually be more of a threat to me than garter snakes.

But it’s only a possibility, so I’m willing to take that risk.

Doesn’t anyone happen to know where I can get a mongoose? That might be even easier than being a hermit.

Marty Mongoose is here to save the day!

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