Scarlet Meets a Copperhead Climbing!

People think I like to sensationalize things. But really! Scarlet did meet a copperhead. She almost touched the thing while we were climbing.

We were rock climbing as a family and the kids were arguing over who would stand where. It’s a tiny ledge after all to fit all four of us. Scarlet put her hand down to move the pile of leaves when suddenly she screamed, “Snake!” I couldn’t see the thing (I was behind a tree on the ledge and Alex was still climbing, otherwise I would have scooted my way back down the cliff).

But I got a photo. The thing was a … copperhead!!!

How do I know? Cuz google said so. That’s how. And Google is God, yep!

Thankfully the copperhead slithered back to it’s hole. Scarlet swears she touched it, “It felt slimy.” So even better that Mr. Copperhead (that’s his name, you know) was cool with being petted.

The kids also had some other climbing adventures. But boring compared to the one with Mr. Copperhead.

Scarlet Killer Soccer Instincts

When you look at Scarlet, you might think she’s all sugar and spice and everything nice. You might think that of her soccer teammates too. They look all sweet and angelic playing tag and doing cartwheels together.

But don’t let them fool you. These girls are intense. They are like attack dogs ready to (um) attack.

I vowed before I had kids that I would never, ever, ever, ever (one more ever for good measure) be a soccer mom. And yet here I am on the side of the field yelling my face off.

“Attack! Attack!” (It’s better than, “Kill! Kill!”)

I remember when I was Scarlet’s age and would play sports. I would run away from the ball. Yes, I do mean away. The ball would be in one spot, and I would make sure to run in another spot. I wonder if that’s why I would get picked last?

Oh yes, and for softball, I would never hit the ball. I mean, it was T-ball, and I still wouldn’t hit it. Now that I’m typing this, it kind of makes sense that I would get picked last. I mean, I wouldn’t pick myself!

But something changed when I made the decision that I would go after the ball. I didn’t really know what to do it when I got the ball, but I made up my mind that ball was mine and I would go after it.

And somehow that mentality got me from being a bench warmer picked last to making the all star team.

I think it’s all about that killer (I mean, attack) instinct.

Sic ‘em!