OFFS.
It’s a puny little Ball Python.
Man up.
Really?
I suppose you never woke up at 6 years old seconds after a nightmare where you were holding a deadly one in your hands watching it strike at your face. Dozens of times...no, hundreds of times...and it still happens, but less frequently. Nightmares all my life, I’ve woke up almost screaming hundreds of times, seconds earlier watching one strike at me, knowing I’m DEAD...if it connects. Holding the damn thing in my hand watching it strike at me...
No thanks, I’m grabbing my shotgun. The only ones I don’t introduce to either my shotgun or 22 pistol are the king snakes, they live on the poisonous ones. I’ll leave garter and grass snakes alone, they help cut down on insects but they still give me the heebee jeebies. If you’ve never been there, you have no idea what it’s like to have that kind of terrifying dreams your entire life. At 5 and 6 years old I was beyond terrified, and had no idea what was going on. Never was I so glad to wake up and find it was only a dream. But I still remember some of them vividly.
One was a recurring one, same thing for around 15 years, usually at least one night every couple of weeks. We were moving, which we did a lot, 35 times before I was 18, and I had to jump out of a huge Mayflower moving truck, 18 wheeler, with boxes full of stuff. In a puddle at the rear of the truck was a coiled rattler. After 3 or 4 jumps I would miss and land on top of the damn thing and wake up as it struck at me. 5 and 6 years old...Still remember it well over 50 years later. Watching that head come at me full speed is never forgotten...
I hate the damn things. It has nothing to do with “manning up”.