John and I were walking in the park this afternoon, chatting, enjoying ourselves, and then he nudged me hard in the upper arm. I lost my balance and windmilled a bit to keep from landing in the muddy grass, and DUDE. I barely tapped you on the arm. Overreacting much? (or some such) went through my head. I didn’t fall on the grass, I did get my feet under me on the sidewalk, and then John yelled, “No, SNAKE!” You would have been SO impressed by my high-stepping prancing moves. I leaped OVER the teeny tiny TERRIFYING snake that I was thisclose to stepping on and landed on the far side of the path. Then I came back to look. Now maybe it was more scared of me that I was of it, but if it had made any sudden movements I would have been up a tree.
I’d like to show you what it looked like, but I didn’t take a picture of it, and there’s no way in hell I’m googling snakes. I don’t google bugs, either. I don’t need those images in my brain.