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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation


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it's best to be specific
children of dune - leto 1
seperis
Last weekend, my aunt asked if she could take Child to the Rattlesnake Show. No, we do not breed them for show or anything. This is not the equivalent of a poisonous reptilian dog show. No.

It involves, if memory serves, perfectly normal people filling enclosed areas with rattlesnakes and then, for reasons beyond my comprehension, *going in there*. Enclosed areas include such charming places as sleeping bags. Another highlight is bagging them--or, and this is where it almost makes sense--going into this enclosed space and *grabbing* them. Manly men seem to prefer to do it without wearing armor. This puzzles me. Other things with snakes happen too, but I haven't been there in years. Because most reptiles terrify me. A lot.

There's also cooking them and selling parts. I have never harmed one myself. I have, however, watched them be shot as they barrelled toward me, stared at them curled on my porch while my cat tried to protect her kittens from it, and hanging from the roof menacingly, not to mention them slithering across highways and coiling up under my bedroom dresser when, thank you God, I was not home.

Now, I've seen one in a jar.

This is where the entire specific thing comes in.

My condition was, he could go, but could not bring anything living he found there back hom with him, because I know Child and I don't trust him. I was somewhat specific and said, you may not bring a snake home. Child heard this as 'do not bring a live snake home' and acted accordingly.

Today, while looking for coffee, I found a jar in the darker corner of the cabinet, filled with some clear fluid and something else. Huh, I thought, and reached to pick it up. In the brilliant light of this marvelous Good Friday, a wide open rattlesnake mouth glared back at me with sharp teeth.

I never said, apparently, *do not bring home the preserved head of a rattlesnake*.

I'm writing this down for the future.

*still shaky*

I've learned my lesson.


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Dear God, woman. Where have you lived? No, of course I know, but sheesh! Okay, so I'd drive over them curled on the road in the early morning between Huntsville and College Station that one year I taught summer school at Blinn. Other than that, not so much. You'd think at least timber rattlers out in the The Woodlands, but fortunately not. But copperheads, coral snakes, and cottonmouths? Sure. Definitely. Especially the last crossing rivers everywhere I ever camped in the hill country. Copperheads and coral snakes as I was growing up in Dickinson. NOT Rattlesnakes. Damn. You know, the rest of us try to avoid them. *boggles at your aunt with you*

I keep thinking about vampire!Brian and almost-Renfield!Justin. Still mulling. And I pimped the story to the same gay friend here I told you read Sleep While I Drive. Going out to the gay strip in OKC w/ him tonight. I hope to have stories tomorrow.

*hugs*
from
the artist previously known as
Devin [insert hillbilly cocktail here]

Copperheads and coral snakes as I was growing up in Dickinson. NOT Rattlesnakes. Damn. You know, the rest of us try to avoid them.

I'm not opposed, per se, to child expanding his interests in animals. But you know, really, what's wrong with furry and domesticated, I ask you?

We have--*thinks*--copperheads, water moccasins, and rattlers, amongst others. Did I ever tell you the story of the day I went down to this little bridge near my house and there were about a billion of them swiming in the overgrown puddle of water beneath? Well, at least ten or twelve that we counted.

I have never moved so fast from pavement to the top of a car in my *life*. We still have pictures, taken from a moving vehicle, by me, hanging the camera out a crack in the window, and one taken from the bridge, until I swear, one of the bastards looked up and saw me and that was actually the second fastest I ever moved, because I stumbled over pavement.

Yes, snake head. Tha's what I need.

I keep thinking about vampire!Brian and almost-Renfield!Justin. Still mulling. And I pimped the story to the same gay friend here I told you read Sleep While I Drive. Going out to the gay strip in OKC w/ him tonight. I hope to have stories tomorrow.

Hee! Yes, stories. LOTS of them.

And btw? You took about a month off my life with the name switch. I could *not* figure out what had happened to everyone. There were three sudden namechanges on my friendlist that day.

*hugs* I hoped everything worked out.

I'm so sorry to take a month off your life. *gives it back* Yes, things are much better now.

OKC was great. We hit every bar on the strip. There's this motel- complex thing that's a marvel. It has two clubs, one country/western, the other a disco with strippers. The dancers: one wore combat boots, briefs, a crewcut, and had a whistle hanging from his neck. Tres QaF intro montage. The other dancer had tiny boxers and a HUGE penis flopping around inside it. How is that legal? And of course the motel had rooms that the guys go to together, and many of them like to leave the curtains open so people can watch. Seedy much? Why yes, but.... My friend hooked up w/ a cowboy, and they plan to get together tonight to continue what began last night. And yes, I met someone, but I swear she was already planning the wedding reception by the time I'd finished paying for the one jello shot I bought her. She was adorable, but not THAT adorable. *throws phone number on pyre*

I enjoyed all the bars. I think we went to six? Seven? Something like that. Just exactly what I needed. Got to watch all the pretty men loving on each other, I helped a friend hook up, and I got my yearly dose of girl-flirting. Oh, and btw, the men were just all so warm. I felt welcome in every bar, no matter how exclusively male the clientele. Lots of men calling me honey, sugar, etc, and touching/hugging me. *sigh* I think they could tell how much I dug their scene, and I think they appreciated my, well, fannishness about it. :)

...barely.

Possibly only because my instincts told my hands that the greater horror would be a preserved rattlesnake head *out* of a jar.

And right now, there's a freaking show on about a guy in a room of snakes. What the *hell*.

I may never sleep again.

This reminds me of a line in a book called "Run With The Horsemen" by Ferrol Sams.

A youngster named Porter Osbourne, Jr. (but almost exclusively referred to as "the boy") gets into one scrape after another. When he lights a horse fart on fire, his father shakes his head and says:

"He's not a bad boy. He minds well. It's that I can't think of enough things to tell him not to do."

The same series of novels also coughed up an adage that seared itself into my brain and never left:

"Big man, big dick. Little man, ALL dick."

It's been at least 15 years since I read those books, but those two lines live on happily in my head.

Those are very definitely two lines worth remembering. (There's one girl I went to high school with I'll always remember solely for a couple of things she said in the girls' locker room when we had the same gym class...)

Gah. Definitely, need to practice making prohibitions that cover all options -- and in this case, telling your aunt as well that you didn't want the Child bringing home a souvenir might have been a good precaution...

Child is frighteningly good at fidnign ways around waht I tell him. *g* I will, in the future, when confronted by reptile shows, be very, very specific indeed.


(Deleted comment)
I was deeply scarred by going to rattlesnake roundups (same kind of thing) when I was a kid growing up in Texas. Gah!!!!

*nodnodnod* The horror is always with you.

This is why I have cats. Indoor cats, who are less prone to bringing me little gifties, although it can get a bit dicey during cricket season.

*dies* My cat used to do that too. Little piles as gifts for me. At least seh made it convenient to clean tehm up and all. I got philosophical about that sort of thing after awhile.

Loopholes, mouseholes alla same-same

Problem with children is they are: natural-born lawyers; natural-born loophole finders/creators ~ "She didn't _say_ not to bring any part of a snake....."; insatiably curious about anything with a tinge of the 'forbidden' about it; innocent; and LOVE a good joke on Mama or Papa!

Re: Loopholes, mouseholes alla same-same

God, yes. *grins*

Yes. Oh yes. It was the "live thing" that was the loophole in the Childe male mind.

But now you know - "Nothing alive, nothing dead, nothing preserved, nothing moving, not moving, animal, vegetable mineral, in fact NOTHING AT ALL, got it?" before he goes out again. And then make him tell you what you just said because the loopholes he perceives will pop up in the recitation "NOthing, that doesn't count humans right?"

Yes. Oh yes. It was the "live thing" that was the loophole in the Childe male mind.

It's scary how he does that.

But now you know - "Nothing alive, nothing dead, nothing preserved, nothing moving, not moving, animal, vegetable mineral, in fact NOTHING AT ALL, got it?" before he goes out again. And then make him tell you what you just said because the loopholes he perceives will pop up in the recitation "NOthing, that doesn't count humans right?"

He'll bring extraterrestrials home, I swear. "But Mooom, you said 'nothing on this earth'. They aren't from earth!"

I have nightmares about our first contact with alien civilizations being Child bringing one home in a bag.

*facepalms*

Children are *weird*.

When Dom was about 7 he wanted to have a pet mouse. We said no (we already had two dogs and two cats). He said "I will keep it in a jar IN MY SOCK DRAWER." I know my child. I reguarly checked his sock drawer for years, just to be sure there were no suffocating mice stuck in there.

*snickers* You ever read the Amelia Peabody books? The author describes the way in which you have to carefully explain conditions of every decree you make to a child of a certain age, because they default to loophole-hunting.

Oh yeah. He's *good* at that.

*sighs*

*Snakes*. What does he have against furry rabbits?

Maybe like a good slasher, he fears bunnies?

I'd forgotten the Amelia Peabody reference, but I clearly recalled The Thief of Time in which Death's granddaughter Susan has become a schoolteacher and very well-practiced indeed at dealing with one of the boys in her class who's a genius at finding loopholes and excuses to do what he wants...

Oh. Dear. Lord.

Just reading this makes my skin crawl.


*shiver*


Remembering makes my skin crawl. Ewww.

I have no idea how what to do with it now.

Throw it away!!

Except that would mean having to touch it again....

I see your dilemma.

Also, Happy Easter :)

Okay. New reason not to visit Texas. *shivers* I don't really dislike snakes, just the poisonous ones. And it's not like Nevada doesn't have rattlers, but
a. We don't worship them.
b. They aren't really all that common. I've never seen one, let along have one slither up on my porch. Not that I'm a big naturalist.

We probably get less rain so that we can't support a very large rodent population. Also, we're surrounded mostly by mountains high enough to kill many snakes, cutting down on the migration in. I live at over 3,000, and most of the nature trails around here are higher, going up to around 7k feet, although there are higher peaks.

The only snake I've seen in the wild was at college and was most definately a garter snake (green stripe). It took off pretty fast.

Heh. Texas, the Slytherin State.

-Silverkyst

I want to move there. I'm trying to rmemeber the country that has no indigeneous snakes, becaues a long time ago, I decided I had to move there. New Zealand?

*tries hard to remember*

Ireland has no snakes. I don't know about New Zealand.
-Silverkyst

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