"And they shall take up serpents . . . "


Like most five-year-old girls, my daughter signed a contract that requires her to adore the following:
  • Kittens
  • The color pink
  • The color purple
  • Glitter
  • Puppies
  • Unicorns
  • Rainbows
She is uber-girlie, seldom agrees to wear anything but a dress, and generally follows the five-year-old girl agreement to the letter. Maybe it's sort of like the contract requiring the gay menfolk to have a flair for interior design and to love Cher (my cousin tells me there was a recent special addendum demanding allegiance to Lady Gaga).

One aspect of my daughter's personality that bucks the stereotype, though? The girl loves her some snakes. I mean, she is totally down with them and completely fearless. There is a herpetology club in our area, and they do a lot of educational outreach at various events. The club was at the wildlife sanctuary yesterday, so we headed over there after lunch. I find it amusing that I can actually use it as leverage with A. As in, "Keep it up and you're not holding a snake today and that's final."



Oh, and please don't call CPS over the bruises. She flipped out of a swing at daycare and decided to break her fall with her face. She also has a sizable bruise on her left thigh. You can only make "you shoulda seen the other guy" jokes for so long before it's time to admit your kid's just not the picture of grace and poise. But, she's cute so we're pretty sure we're gonna keep her.

Comments

Cindy and the bullies baby! said…
Ill bring a few snakes to bash just for her.
Steph K said…
I wish I could tell you that the snake thing ends after 5, but my 6 year old hasn't gotten past it yet. :(
Lisa.Y. said…
I have always loved snakes and had a ball python for several years until some "snake food" bit my mother. She has no problem with snakes, but really hates mice. Anyways, I can't say that she'll grow out of it because I would still love to have another one if all my current pets wouldn't eat it.

As far as the klutziness is concerned I always have to explain why I trip over my own feet while walking across a clear floor by throwing on my thickest southern drawl and saying "Well, there's a reason Momma didn't name me Grace." I still pray I get some balance one day.

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