Yesterday we went to the house of a partner at Brad's firm for a cocktail party. It was pretty fun; there was good company, good food, a live band, and iced tea flavored vodka. I felt under-educated and underpaid, as I tend to feel at most lawyer gatherings, but I still thoroughly enjoyed myself.
We drove home, making up words to turn an Usher song (the atrocious OMG) into a song about robots and laughing hysterically because, as Brad said this morning, we're like Beavis and Butthead. I don't remember most of our lyrics, but the line "There's so many places to oil you" was definitely in there. Heh heh.
As we were getting out of the car, Brad said, "What is that?" He leans over to investigate and exclaims "It's a snake! Cool." And then my husband, the attorney, crouches down and starts poking the snake with a stick.
This lead to a conversation about the surely thousands of snakes that live in our area, and how surprised we both are that Brad has never seen a rattlesnake (apparently, everyone he knows that lives here and spends any amount of time in the woods has seen one.) I trail run and hike by myself all of the time, and I don't know what I would do if I ran across a rattler. Actually, I do. I'd panic, turn around and run the other way, and maybe cry.
Since the snake sighting, every stick in the grass is suspect. I know they are harmless but I just don't like them. They're fast and slithery! Some of them can kill you!