If you were to ask my husband if there is anything about me that annoys him he would have to think about it for several hours (Am I right, Doty?), but after some pondering he would probably tell you he isn’t fond of the habit I have of taking the trash, tying it up, and placing it on the back porch instead of walking the extra few feet down the deck stairs to the trash can.
I’ll be the first one to admit to you that this is ridiculously lazy, but the back porch is coated in pollen right now and there are pointy rocks in our driveway that hurt my bare feet and my shoes are oh so far away from the back door and this is the part where you get out your tiny violin and play a sad song. I digress.
Sometimes on Sunday night after a long weekend of working, Doty will step on the back deck and say with obvious exasperation, “I see you’ve built trash mountain out here again.” That’s when I giggle and remind him our love can move mountains. He loves it.
This afternoon I was putting a bag of trash outside the door and I had just set the bag down when I realized I had just put it down next to an anaconda. Right there on my back porch a foot from my back door was a huge, menacing, scaly snake…or maybe it was a 12- inch, black garden snake. Either way, it was a snake. It was on my back porch and I almost stepped on it with my bare foot! I darted back into the house, slammed the door, locked the dead bolt, and put the chain in place (because you never can tell with snakes) all the while screaming at the top of my lungs.
Anders came running into the kitchen to see what all the commotion was about. I squealed for him to come and look out the window. The snake was still just laying there, essentially unaffected by my high pitched squeals and door slamming. After some thought, Anders asked what we were going to do about it. I told him we weren’t going to do anything, but stand here with goosebumps and scream some more and maybe later change our underwear. That’s when he said “I’ll kill that snake for you, mommy. All you have to do is ask me nicely.” Ever the super hero…
I’m never taking the trash out again. Not even to the back porch. This is officially one of those instances where I’d like to uphold traditional gender roles.