Please do not send me photos like this.
Please do not share stories about things like the ugh in this photo with me.
Please do not think that my fear will incapacitate me.
I will be wigged out.
I will deal with a racing heart.
And if it is a rattlesnake:
I will do what is needed.
I will not enjoy it.
I will be forever skittish when walking about my farm.
I will look before I collect squash off my plants.
And I will watch my step coming off the porches.
And I will continue to have the scary snake dreams while awake.
This is me.
Your mom the co-contributor to your genetic makeup.
The one that protected you from your fears and worries and dreads,
even if they were purple aliens...and
I ask you as you are all nearly adults,
that the time is now to protect me from my
and refrain from sharing about them,
or sending me emails about them,
or leaving the skin they shed upon my porch.
NOT the Snake Whisperer