The Snail Story
And so it was, that a few summers ago, my mother-in-law gave me day lilies to plant in my planter box. The problem was that I already had a small statue there. So upon contemplation, I decided to move the statue elsewhere, so that I may plant those day lilies inside the planter box. I picked up the statue and quickly set it down on the edge of said planter box in an attempt to get a better grip on it.
Unbeknownst to me, there had been a snail stuck to the bottom of the statue. When I had set it down, I had obliterated it. I went on my way, relocating the statue. I heard a yelp and then a moan. There was Kade shaking his head in disbelief.
"You crushed a snail!"
"I did?"
"Look, it's all smashed and oozing down the side!"
"Ugh. Gross."
"You killed it!"
"Well... I didn't mean to..."
"Now it's dead. You killed the snail!"
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"
"You murdered it!"
Then he gave me a look that was a mixture of contempt and disdain. All at once, I had disappointed my son. I could feel my face getting red with embarrassment and shame... all over accidently crushing a snail.
That snail could have been the hero snail that would be responsible for the relocation and expansion of new snail homes. But I killed it. That snail could have been the lone snail that would unite the snails and slugs into peaceful harmony. But I killed it. So instead, the snails and slugs will now be duking it out in my planter box, over who will get the best meal. All because I killed that one snail. I had single-handedly disrupted the planterbox ecosystem.
I picked up a new snail and gave it a name. I think I named it Snaily. Kade picked one up and named it Fred. I have no idea where he gets these names. I told him that we could race Snaily and Fred up the planterbox, so I set mine at the bottom, while Kade followed suit. And we raced snails. It took awhile, but that was good. By the time the race was over, he'd forgotten that I was a snail murderer. Whew!
Still the look he gave me still haunts me. So I vow that from this day forward, I shall be more careful of what I'm doing in the back yard. I vow that I will no longer kill any snails. I will no longer run outside during the rain to pour salt on the slugs that are making their way to my hastas. I will just leave them alone and lament the loss of my hastas quietly.
And if there does happen to be another murder within the confines of the planterbox, I am totally blaming it on Sasha.
Unbeknownst to me, there had been a snail stuck to the bottom of the statue. When I had set it down, I had obliterated it. I went on my way, relocating the statue. I heard a yelp and then a moan. There was Kade shaking his head in disbelief.
"You crushed a snail!"
"I did?"
"Look, it's all smashed and oozing down the side!"
"Ugh. Gross."
"You killed it!"
"Well... I didn't mean to..."
"Now it's dead. You killed the snail!"
"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"
"You murdered it!"
Then he gave me a look that was a mixture of contempt and disdain. All at once, I had disappointed my son. I could feel my face getting red with embarrassment and shame... all over accidently crushing a snail.
That snail could have been the hero snail that would be responsible for the relocation and expansion of new snail homes. But I killed it. That snail could have been the lone snail that would unite the snails and slugs into peaceful harmony. But I killed it. So instead, the snails and slugs will now be duking it out in my planter box, over who will get the best meal. All because I killed that one snail. I had single-handedly disrupted the planterbox ecosystem.
I picked up a new snail and gave it a name. I think I named it Snaily. Kade picked one up and named it Fred. I have no idea where he gets these names. I told him that we could race Snaily and Fred up the planterbox, so I set mine at the bottom, while Kade followed suit. And we raced snails. It took awhile, but that was good. By the time the race was over, he'd forgotten that I was a snail murderer. Whew!
Still the look he gave me still haunts me. So I vow that from this day forward, I shall be more careful of what I'm doing in the back yard. I vow that I will no longer kill any snails. I will no longer run outside during the rain to pour salt on the slugs that are making their way to my hastas. I will just leave them alone and lament the loss of my hastas quietly.
And if there does happen to be another murder within the confines of the planterbox, I am totally blaming it on Sasha.
posted by Ari at 11:43 AM
7 Comments:
I can see the episode of Dr. Phil already. "Tell me son, did your mother always like to crush the life out of living creatures?"
Actually, you redeemed yourself. No repressed memories there. Here's a cyber high-five for being a snail lover (and sharing a cute story :)
Hey you never said which brave shelled speedster won the race! Some times I guess you just gotta take it on the chin and say 'yep I kill snails me'
Way to pull that one out of the jaws of defeat!!!
That also could have been a terrorist snail that has been killing women and children slugs with shell bombs.....
Chris
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aww.... they eventually do figure out we are human, but I think you are a great mom:)
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I have a snail story for you:
Once upon a time, there was this rageholic. He was a nasty mean bastard that stayed up late drinking and channel surfing until he eventually would fall asleep on the couch. Each morning he would wake up too late and have to rush around the house getting ready for work. One morning after a night of festivities, he woke up late, and this day was very important because he had a huge meeting with all the executives at his company. So he was raging around the house, cursing, throwing things, looking for his keys and briefcase. When he finally got out the door, he was so pissed off that he would have to speed to work that he ripped a snail that was minding its own business on his doorframe off and slung it viciously on the payment.
The meeting went fine and he came home and continued the same cycle over and over again.
About a year later, he was lazily sitting on his couch when he heard a "tap..tap..tap" on the front door. He opened the front door and saw nothing. After he sat back down, he heard again "tap... tap.... tap". Again he went to the door opened it and saw nothing. The third time he heard "TAP..TAP..TAP", he rushed to the door prepared to give those little bastards of the neighborhood a beating. Opening the door, he looked down and saw this decrepit mangled snail, looking up at him and saying, “Hey what was that for?!”
I'm here all week!
Amazing how our children see the world at the smaller level...With those 'things' we once held dear yet lost in our growth...My Otto, was upset with me for days when I was digging out one of my flower beds and there were tree roots that I was chopping away at...He freaked! Telling me that I was(me) killing our air. When he was done I felt personally responsible for depleting our ozone and adding to the poor air quality of the whole earth!
We bought some new saplings to plant. And like you, I will never forget the look. It was more than just about a tree.
I get this.
Peace
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