I’ve been hobbling around the house all week because I hurt my back trying to wrestle a 14-foot, 110lb Burmese Python back into his cage.
You probably have questions. Let me assure you, though, that I was being extra careful and was only lifting a few feet of snake at a time. I’m not an idiot.
Still, it’s embarrassing.
There was a time when I could do perfectly normal things like this without worrying about spraining essential body parts. Then I got old and had to start dealing with the consequences of decisions I made decades ago. Like that one time in college when I thought it would be cool to own a baby Burmese Python.
Did you know snakes like these can live for 20-25 years? Or, in very rare instances, 30+ years? Pretty wonderful, right?! My wife of 29+ years doesn’t think so. In fact, if it was up to her, snakes wouldn’t live at all. At least not in her home. Don’t feel bad for her, though. She knew the snake and I were part of a package deal and therefore should’ve done her own research before marrying us. Instead, she’s tried to murder him at least once (that I know about). She claims it was just a big misunderstanding, but I think she’s been attempting to expedite the whole “until death do us part” thing for years.
I guess some of us are just better at dealing with consequences than others.
Now please excuse me while I take another handful of Ibuprofen.