R.I.P. Mr. Snake

We bought a house with a hot tub. A hot tub that doesn't work. A hot tub that we have never fixed and now never will.

While having our deck repaired, the casing around the hot tub was opened and a BIG snake was discovered. Knowing that we have many, many, many children in our house - okay, there are only 3, but I swear they seem like more - the men killed the snake and tossed it over the side of the deck into the grass.

Scott, Ana, babies, and I checked it out later that evening when Scott got home from work. The dead snake of course turned into a discussion about life and death and all things scaly. This led into a funeral for Mr. Snake and another Ana conversation with God. After properly tossing flowers at the snake - you don't want to get too close - Ana addressed the man upstairs.

God? There is a dead snake here. We are sorry that we killed it but we needed to protect children. You made grownups to protect children, so I'm sorry, but they had to help us. Can you tell the snake that? Can you tell him that we still love him?

And God? Can you give him a new body without that hole in it?

And God? Can you give him lots of good things to eat, like ice cream?

Ummm... Ana? Snakes don't eat ice cream (way to be a buzz kill, Mommy)

Oh yeah. God? Can you give him ice cream shaped like mice and rats?

And lots of grass to live in.

That's it. Thanks, God. I mean, Amen.