Every kid in the history of the world has pleaded his case for a new pet by arguing he'll take care of it. And with few exceptions, after a couple of weeks, it's the parents who end up doing all the work.
Well, in our case, it's historically been Kelly that does all the pet work. But with my new role as June Cleaver, more of these chores are falling on me. Sure, he still cleans out the guinea pig cage, but I feed the snake. And, yeah newspapers soaked and stained with Cavy body fluids are gross, but I'd argue my job of defrosting a "pinkie" mouse and serving it up to a corn snake is right up there.
And then there's my other serpent chore: soaking the snake. Kelly's instructions, provided while we were at a family gathering, stating I really need to "soak my snake" weekly elicited giggles from my nephews. But I'm more mature. So this afternoon while Kelly was at work and the boys were playing outside, I reached into Zeus' habitat and sifted through the moss and shavings looking for him.
Let me tell you, searching for a snake goes counter to every primate's internal sense of survival. Yet there I was, intentionally grabbing for a snake, and once I found him I spent the next 20-minutes resisting every natural instinct to get the heebie jeebies, and held him in a bowl of water.
I really need to get a new job.
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