Almost every creature in the world looks better when it's a baby. Some look better than others, granted—there are those baby animals that are born hairless, and that's not very cute, goodness knows. But most babies? Cute. (With the exception of some human newborns, all red, wrinkled, and raisin-y. Or any brand-new newborn, I guess, what with all that slime and blood and goo on 'em... Okay, enough about that. We're not talking newborns here.)
I needed this reminder about innate baby cuteness after I'd nearly stepped on, and cursed under my breath at, this little guy's parents. Apparently, when I thought they'd moved on to brighter backyards, they came back to our lovely, rocky hill to take advantage of the deer's sudden disinterest in our hostas, which are beginning to fill in once again. There I was, ready to feed birds, and there came a fat mother garter slithering out onto the rocks whence I wanted to step. And then her slinky mate. Yes, I screamed aloud when I saw the mom--she came crawling up between two large pavers, rearing her black head just a few inches in front of my toe...or so it seemed, anyway.
But the creepiness passed, the snakes hid under the sedum ground cover, and when I thought the coast was clear, my son hollered, "Mom! Baby snakes!!!" And here was this small, slim, harmless specimen curled up in my husband's hand, his diminutive head as shapely and perfect as his folks' had been. All in miniature.
I STILL don't want them around.
