Last weekend we went to a reptile show with my parents and brother. Dad had been here before and predicted that Jackson would love it.
He was right. Jackson is into anything that has to do with snakes. He wants to be a herpetologist when he grows up. That is, when he isn’t busy being an astronomer.
Jonathan is a little less enthused by creepy crawly things. I was pretty surprised he got this close to a table full of spiders, even contained spiders. He thought a reptile show meant lizards and turtles would be dancing across a stage and maybe sing a few songs. So five minutes was about enough of this “show” for him.
Jackson on the other hand REALLY wants a snake.
One of these, to be exact. Except we have baby chicks in the bathtub so this feels like a conflict of interest. I want to encourage the things he’s passionate about, but a pet that lives 30 years makes me a tad nauseous. There’s a very real possibility I’ll inherit snake duty when he goes off to college and then I’ll be responsible for one more animal’s poo.
I have to admit that as far as pets go, these are really beautiful.
We came, we saw, we left without a snake. And I’ve been asked about it every day since.
“Mommy, why don’t we have a snake as a pet?”
Because they live six times longer than a chicken!
Pics along the walk from the reptile show to the car.