All About My Daughter's Snake

My mother would never have allowed this to happen.
  1. Just prior to my daughter's 7th birthday, she made me a "PowerPoint" showing all the animals at the pet store, how much they cost, and what they ate
    I say "PowerPoint" because it was actually a notebook turned on its side. She had drawn all the details. It was impressive. Kid knows how to sell it.
  2. Being impressed by said PowerPoint, I tell her we'll go to the store for more "research."
    Seeing as how she had made up the facts. I am cooly confident that she is getting a turtle.
  3. Turtles under 5" are illegal in CT because they spread salmonella. Turtles over 5" require a big damn tank.
    I knew what was coming. I told you the kid can sell.
  4. We ended on the snake. A little pencil-sized thing that only eats once a week and lives 25 years.
    Such a little thing. What's the big deal? And so...efficient.
  5. We buy the snake. She names it Snakers.
    Aren't they both so sweet? I touch it once.
  6. We keep frozen mice in our freezer, which we defrost once a week in warm water.
    And by "we" I mean "not me."
  7. Snakes are pains in the ass.
    It doesn't eat when it's too cold. It doesn't eat when it's shedding. And it doesn't eat when it's constipated. Which means you put it in the bathtub full of warm water until it craps its soul.
  8. It's now huge.
    And still growing, I might add.
  9. And I have to say things like "Ruth, please don't leave your snake on the kitchen table."
    Ruth was in another room. Watching television.
  10. I have to board the snake when we go on vacation.
    Who's efficient now?