This Yankee Girl

For those who don't know, my husband is from Texas.  And yes, he fits most every stereotype minus the boots, wranglers, and accent.  The first two he had, but I broke him of.  Sadly the third over time has faded away.  When Duck Dynasty became all the rage, everyone would ask us if we watched it.  Finally I capitulated, laughed my way through several episodes and decided that the Robertson clan had nothing on my in-laws.

As part of the Southern clichés predict, I was a Yankee.  Many times I have been visiting Texas when they have mocked me over my fear of Coral Snakes (apparently their mouths are too small to really be a threat), swimming with Water Moccasins (they're more afraid of you then you are of them) and scorpions (they only come in the house when it's about to rain) just to name a few.

So I can only imagine what how they would have been laughing on the ground over my antics the other day up North here.  My friend and I were walking on the rail trail path with her baby.  On the way out my friend (also a native Texan) yelled, "Watch out" as we side stepped over and around a snake on the trial.  I was a little freaked out, but continued on.  I guess I hadn't realized how bad it was until we continued on the trail.  With my flip flops any stick I hit or weird feeling on my foot I felt, had me skipping and hopping around like an idiot.  I logically knew I was being irrational, but I just couldn't help it.  I guess I am a Yankee girl after all.

On the way back we passed him again, but I guess in the interim someone had run over the poor guy.  And just like a Yankee girl, I felt really sorry for the snake.