What The Frick Kind Of A Park Is This?

This is the third day that my nephew has been here at my house for part or all of the day. It’s been… different. Boys are a lot different than girls, and he is 7 which is 3 years older than my oldest. So they manage to get into trouble together.

By 10:30 am this morning I was already ready to knock all three of their heads together. So I grabbed some Cheez-Its and bottled water and herded the kids out the door. I took them to the park thinking that playing in 97 degree heat for an hour or so would settle them down.

After some time on the swings (during which I had to intervene because nephy poo and Caroline were bullying some kids out of their turn), many spins down the slide, and a half-hearted attempt to play soccer, we decided to take a walk. There is a really nice walking trail at the park that only gets near the freeway for like a minute. (Seriously, at one point there was only a flimsy wire fence and about 6 feet of dirt path between us and the 18 wheelers barreling toward Southern California.)

After I dragged the kids away from playing in the freeway, we continued our meander around the park. We came around a turn and headed up the straightaway toward the car. Suddenly, right in our path, draped halfway across the cement path, is a SNAKE. No shit, it was was easily 5 feet long and just inches in front of us. I had to shake my head and wipe my eyes because at first my brain said, “Nooo, that’s not a snake. It’s a branch. Or maybe a kid’s toy.” Then I saw the slithering tongue as it came straight toward us.

I screamed like the fucking coward that I am and knocked the kids down like bowling pins in my attempt to get away from the evil bastard. Avery was literally on the ground crying, two feet from it as I tried to decide what to do about half a mile away.

I told you it was big. You didn't believe me did you?

So, really, all my big talk about protecting my kids, and I’m a bobcat, momma tiger, whatever, is bullshit. Because in the face of fear (ie. my snake phobia) I abandoned the children like I didn’t even know who they were. Let the 7-year-old deal with it ’cause I’m outta here. 

Only problem with that is that the 7-year-old is as much of a sissy as I am. I realized that he was behind me sweating and holding on for dear life.

That's a scary bastard.

So I ran back quickly, snatched up Avery and said, “Come on kids, let’s get out of here. Move!”

But Caroline was just standing there looking at it.

“I like it Mommy,” she said, “I like it’s tongue.”

This is the child that only just decided to go down the slide on her own about a month ago. That cries if someone says the word “blood” on TV. That nearly refused to go into the reptile house at the Zoo a few short weeks ago.

“FUCK HIS TONGUE!” I screamed (maybe that was in my head), but I know I screamed something at her that got her moving toward the car. At a slow walk, and meanwhile my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

Did I mention that I am afraid of snakes? I told you that, right?

Do you see how many people it took to get it out of the park?

I finally dragged Caroline and nephy out of the so-called “park” while holding a tote bag full of Cheez-Its, Avery, a Dora soccer ball, and three sunflowers that the kids had collected along the way. I was praying with all my might that the soccer ball would magically turn into a Cosmopolitan.

After the nightmare was over I headed to Burger King and loaded the kids up with lots of lard and diabetes.

And after all that, they are still running around destroying my house like their chicken nuggets were full of meth.

So, to recap, I was attacked by a snake, nearly died on the freeway, clogged the kids arteries, and none of it calmed them down one little bit. My plan was a giant bust.

I’ve failed as a parent on so many levels today. Might as well let them smoke and stay up till midnight, then just try and start over tomorrow.

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