|
In the early 1930s a popular toy was a wooden snake.
Perhaps a foot long, it was made of small wood blocks
hinged together between a carved head and tail. It could
be held and made to wiggle like a real snake. My sister
Gerry and I took turns trying to startle each other with
it, but trying to startle Mother was always an exercise
in futility. She would simply frown and tell us to “get
that thing out of here,” probably wondering why in the
world she bought it for us.
I was barely school age at the time, so I thought it was
great fun. I just needed someone more unsuspecting than
Mother. Playing jokes on one another was a pastime in our
home, and always treated as good clean fun. It did not occur
to me that some people might be deathly afraid of snakes.
Uncle Bob Gruner often came out from Detroit to our farm
with Aunt Nelle, his wife. When they visited, they slept
in my bedroom and I moved into Gerry’s room. It seemed
like a splendid opportunity to startle a new victim. I
put the snake between the sheets, where she would see it
when she turned back the covers. Then Gerry and I waited
in giggling anticipation.
It didn’t quite work out as expected. Aunt Nelle not only
screamed, she went into real hysteria. Our glee quickly
turned to a fearful panic as we realized there would be
consequences. We heard our parents come running and we did
the only sensible thing – we pretended to be asleep.
Years later, Uncle Bob told me that Dad was ready to haul
us out of bed for a good licking, but Uncle Bob talked him
out of it. Later, Mother told us that a practical joke is
not funny if it hurts someone.
I never saw that snake again. I didn’t know what happened
to it, but I never felt I dared to ask.
Marian Zang
Music Playing: Sneaky Snake Midi
|