animal stories.
Oh no, it’s late.
And I kind of knew this would happen.
Because, see, we went to the open mic at the Castle tonight and whenever we go there we don’t get home till real real late.
But what makes this especially unfortunate is that tomorrow morning I have to be up and at ‘em for a 9:30 am class. In which I am teaching tiny children how to dance and if that isn’t just about the worst kind of thing to be doing at that hour, then it is not late.
And it is late.
And this might surprise you about me, but I try to be honest on this here blog, so here goes: I. Hate. Teaching. Small. Children. How. To. Dance.
Seriously. I usually avoid it like the plague, but when I do find myself doing it, the minutes tick by painstakingly slow. Sometimes it seems that surely the clock must be broken–please God, tell me that it has not only been one and a half minutes since last I looked!–and would these adorable little pink-clad girlies PLEASE just stand in first position, already?!
But tomorrow morning I get to convince them to stand in first position and try to make them think that making a diamond with their little legs is a good idea, because that’s what we call a demi plie when they’re that small.
But see, I like calling a demi plie a demi plie. I like working with people who want to be there; people who can conceptualize dance and understand technique and don’t show princess underwear underneath their pink tights.
Oh, but it’ll be okay. You can do anything for four hours, right?
But there are two things I must tell you before I give myself to sleep in order to be fresh as a daisy for the littles in the morning. And both of these things involve animals. I know, this post just got so much better.
Because see, something very momentous took place tonight. To me. I was sitting at a bonfire, wearing shoes without socks that also happened to expose a good deal of my feet. Scandalous, I know. And I was wearing a whole outfit, really, but the shoes part is important, which is why I mention it. Cause all of the sudden I felt something on my foot and that something was definitely slithering. But I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, so I decided to look, and sure enough, a snake was slithering up and over my foot.
Yes.
A SNAKE WAS SLITHERING OVER MY FOOT. LIKE MY FOOT WAS GRASS OR A LOG OR MAYBE ANOTHER CREATURE, WHEN REALLY IT WAS MY FOOT, AND WHOAAAAAAAA! THAT’S DEFINITELY A SNAKE AND IT’S DEFINITELY SLITHERING OVER MY (MOSTLY!) EXPOSED FOOT.
Crazy, right?
But then I jumped because I had to, and if you don’t know why I had to, please refer to the paragraph that is all done up in caps right above. I screamed just a little and then calmly announced that a snake just slithered over my foot, but it’s okay. I added the but it’s okay part because I suddenly wanted to sound tough and not like a scaredy cat.
Then my friend Ian caught the snake and you know what happened almost immediately? He pooped. The snake, that is–not Ian. But I was suddenly really grateful because that snake could have not only just slithered over my foot–he could have slithered and pooped on my foot, too. Which would have been quite a story, I guess, but ew. gross. It’s moments like these that the provision of God is evident.
And then my other animal story takes place at the Castle. Because at the open mic there was a man dressed in a silken outfit, complete with a fancy silk vest and fancy silk shirt. And I looked over to see one of my friends do something that looked like he was stroking this man’s fancy silk sleeve, which was a little odd, but maybe warranted when you consider the silky nature of the man’s outfit. Totally, strokably silky. But then my friend kept stroking it and I suddenly realized that he was actually stroking a squirrel.
A squirrel that was laying comfortable as can be in the man’s silken lap, letting any and all humans pet it till kingdom come, apparently.
Which was strange.
But not as strange as the man getting up at the open mic to tell us the story of this squirrel and how it came to be so tame. The story goes that this man was working for a landscaping company (which further confused me, considering his silkiness) and that they noticed that a squirrel was stealing their peanuts. So they caught said squirrel, and nobody knowing what to do with it, this man took the squirrel home, killed it by severing his spine with a sharp knife in his bathtub (he graphically explained to us, much to my horror) and ate it with a red merlot sauce and mentioned something about the giblets being delicious, specifically.
And then the landscaping company employees heard some squeaking eventually–a baby squirrel calling for its mama. It’s dead mama. So, out of guilt and God knows what else, His Silkiness adopted the baby squirrel and has raised it as his own, bequeathing it with a name that is Russian and very difficult to remember.
But the nickname is Peanut, which is not nearly so difficult to remember.
So those are my animal stories. A squirrel and a snake. Not so bad in one Friday night, right?
in Funny Stuff
as demi plie, foot, fresh as a daisy, God, I. Hate, Ian, man, MY, MY FOOT, open mic, pink tights, snake, something, squirrel, tiny children
Did the man who was dressed in silk kill the Mama squirrel?????? That’s just sad! Does Peanut know that she’s living with her Mama’s murderer?????
As far as the snake—-what kind was it? A garter snake or a black mamba?
Cool stories.
haha no, the snake was NOT a black mamba–could you imagine??? It was a brown snake, which Shane tells me is very rare, so I am double lucky to first of all have a snake slither across my foot, not to mention the fact that it was a RARE snake at that!
and yes, the Sir Silk ATE the squirrel’s mom!!!! No, I don’t think the little tame squirrel is aware of this…:-(
I bet those little girlies are adorable in their pink tights…I can just picture Miss B. in class trying to make a diamond with her little legs…but she would have Dora pull-ups showing underneath her tights.
Ian probably scared the poop out of that snake.
Did His Silkiness eat the mama squirrel with fava beans and a nice Chianti, too?
I bet Miss B would be absolutely perfect in a pink little ballet class outfit; and I bet someone else would do such a great job enjoying the chance to teach her, too:)
Wow. I can honestly say that this is the weirdest thing that I have so far read on the web today.
hahahaha well that deserves a gold star!
That squirrel story is just terrible. Awful! Did people boo him or something?
people were in stunned silence. I couldn’t believe when he said he ate it, cause naturally, when he referred to a squirrel, I assumed he was talking about the one who was very much alive and UNeaten in his lap! And the way he talked about HOW he killed it was very disturbing…
I agree with Jase and your mom. How sad that little baby squirrel is living with his mom’s murderer! And what the heck–that squirrel was just stealing their peanuts?! That does not warrant such a bitter, sad end for the mom squirrel, in my opinion. Boo, creepy silky man, BOO!
Crazy about the snake! I would have seriously screamed, too! Way to have the presence of mind to even try to act cool afterward.
I know–I will never, ever take one peanut from that guy. Even if he offers it to me. I know what happens…and terrible about the baby living with the guy who ate his (or her!) mom…!
and yeah, I don’t know why it was important for me to tell everyone that I thought it was “okay,” in that exact moment, but apparently it was.
For what it’s worth, the “It’s ok” part did come off sounding very smooth and cool. Like it happens all the time. Like, it sucks when it’s a cobra, but a little brown snake is no big deal.
hahaha, Ian–I am glad that’s the way it came across. It was totally what I was going for.
I like my kids and all, but I don’t ever want to teach their Sunday School class… I don’t ever want to teach, period. I’m surprised Mr. Silky didn’t ask you if you were Russian. And thats really gross about the squirrel.
I hear you about the not teaching, emily! I actually do enjoy teaching when the students are older and actually able to learn technique. I enjoy working with adults too–cause they want to be there and can conceptualize dance, even if it takes some practice to get it in their bodies. But, little tiny kids??? NO. THANK. YOU.
And I didn’t really give Sir Silk a chance to ask me about anything–though, I’d be afraid for him to think that I’m Russian at the off-chance that maybe that is somehow a worse offense than stealing peanuts and then who knows what he would do??
best. post. ever.
miss you, kelley! Hope you’re well, beautiful girl.
HA! HA HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHHAHA!!!
WOW.
So funny.
We should be in a club. The club called “People who have survived being violated by rodents and reptiles.” Except that “violated” sounds so much dirtier than it was. But I would say having a mouse crawl up your leg and GOODNESS-KNOWS-WHERE-ELSE while you’re sleeping or a snake crawling across your foot and thinking about pooping on it IS a violation, I tell you!!!
And the fact that you had to clarify that the SNAKE did the pooping and not your friend. I just about lost it.
Also. My husband teaches small children how to do things. All day. Every day. And I HAVE NO IDEA how he does that for a living. Because it would make me crazy. Because I had 9 year-olds for Awana for 2 hours per week and I was ready to run out of there by the end of that. Because kids! Are not organized! Or quiet! Ack!! And they weren’t even all that tiny.
And the squirrel? And the silky man? Oh wow. Too many yucky things. Bleck. Ack. Ew. Whew. Flllluuurrffff.
Your husband continues to earn much respect from me! Wow, kids. All day long. And teaching them something that he is very passionate about–that takes a lot of patience and some other really good qualities too…
And a mouse? UP YOUR LEG?? AND GOODNESS KNOW WHERE ELSE??? Oh you, can be president of our club, because I am pretty sure THAT earned it!!!
I do NOT understand how he does it. A few weeks ago, he had a parent’s night out and I came by toward the end to drop off some coffee for him, and I had planned on sticking around until the kids were gone so we could go home together, but I couldn’t do it. I had to leave within 5 minutes. They drove me CRAZY.
AND. YES! A mouse! It was scarring!! Did you not hear this story yet? Oh, man. http://jackandmandy.blogspot.com/2010/05/in-which-i-make-you-squirm.html
ohhh mandy. YIKES. Ew. How surprising. and not really in the good christmas morning kinda way….whoa.
(but too bad you didn’t get those super powers).
There’s still time!! How long did it take Spiderman to get all his climbing-up-buildings fanciness?
And if that doesn’t earn you the presidency, then I am pretty sure the word “Flllluuurrffff.” certainly does!
Teehee.
Teaching little kids definitely requires grace…lots of it…and sometimes it is still difficult…you really have to want to be there.
I think you must have lots of grace and I know you do a great job at teaching little kids–not my specialty, though:)
patience is a virtue. it takes special people to teach kids, and I’m not one either.
squirrel is delicious.
His Silkiness’s name is Tim.
you were great at open mic.
you get lots of comments, probably because you’re cool
hi miguel! thanks for saying such nice words and haha so, squirrel is delicious, huh? Good to know! and yes, patience is a virtue, for sure–true story:)