Well, Anji, here's the problem...
Once upon a time, I held a fuzzy mouse up and wiggled it in front of my dear, darling itty bitty baby ball python. And lo and behold, she struck out at it perfectly. Perfectly, that is, except for the dear, darling little teeth that embedded themselves in that very sensitive spot just to the side of your fingernail. And so with drops of blood dropping and darling little snakey curled up around my hand, eating her fuzzy
and my finger, I very quietly called to hubby for help, so as not to frighten the baby now digesting a part of me that I was quite attached to.
Alas.
Hubby was much too busy laughing his SORRY NO GOOD WORTHLESS BUM OFF to help me.
Finally, after much cursing at hubby and much manipulation of snakey, I did rescue my finger and solemnly vowed to never, ever, ever dangle food from my fingers again. And we all lived happily ever after.
Except for hubby, who was punished by the addition of two new garters and a corn snake coming today of which he knows nothing about.
