Snakes on a Plane

We have a new obsession in the Last household: snakes. It's like Cody's space or excavator phases -- but much, much worse. Because -- snakes. 

Currently, we have about 70 % of the library's J books on snakes. Behold...

This is just a sample. There are more in his room. And in the car. 

There are a few problems with this phase. One, Cody's become a bit of a parseltongue and often chooses to communicate via hissing. This is not the most pleasant or productive form of conversation. 

He seems to dream about them, too. Last weekend, JVL went in to wake him from a nap. His eyes popped open and he said, "Are green mambas venomous too or just black mambas?!" Sunday, same scenario: JVL goes in and says, "Good morning, sweet Cody!" Cody grabs his arm in his sleep and shouts, "ANTI-VENOM!"

Then there's the dawning of understanding of nature, red in tooth and claw. Cody loves snakes. But he has not loved discovering what--and how--they eat. He's tormented by pages like this:

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He will cover the picture with his hand and shout, "No, copperhead! That is unkind! We do not eat other animals!" Then he goes into this long spiel about how if he ever sees a snake being a predator and trying to eat prey, he will pin them down and make sure the prey can get away safely. Then he tells me that his snakes (Shannon and Brady) are herbivores and they would never, never do something so mean as to eat another animal. This is going to be tricky once he makes the connection between nature and Chick-fil-A. 

Then there's the social awkwardness part. For example, a few weeks back he and I dropped off a dinner to a friend who had just had her third baby, has started homeschooling, and has just moved into a short-sale house which -- they discovered after moving in -- had a giant mold problem. We go in, bearing baked ziti and salad and bread and brownies. I ask how she's holding up. Cody asks, "I notice there are a lot of woods here, and lots of leaves outside. Do you know if you have snakes around here?" Unwisely, perhaps because she was so caught off guard, she makes some remark about how there maybe could be snakes "down by the lake." At which point the whole conversation becomes: Where is the lake? How far? What kind of snakes? Copperheads? Timber rattlers? Have you seen them? Also, you might want to rake those leaves, because there could be snakes hiding there, camoflaging themselves. At the very least you should be sure to kick the leaves when you walk to the car so you can scare any snakes.

So she's there with a newborn, a two-year-old, and a six-year-old, her pipes have burst that day, she has piles of sheetrock and flooring everywhere, and mold crawling up the walls. Her house is literally falling down around her. And now she might have a snake problem, too. 

On the other hand, his Granny just won the international award for most amazing grandmother ever. Because she found him a costume for Halloween. Here he is, opening it, and realizing what it is...

...then pulling one of Emma's rattles out to make himself--you guessed it--an Eastern Diamondback rattlesnake. Which are, just in case you didn't know, venomous. 

He wears it all the time. We draw the line at bedtime.