I’m a rare bird. I’m not afraid of snakes, not really. Could it be that I don’t see them?

The other day this was put to the test. My 6-year-old granddaughter jumped on my lap. “Nana! There is a huge lizard on the carpet.”

Huge lizard? She likes lizards and she usually guides my hand to grab them by the tail (catching them happens to be a common thing in Florida).  But this “huge” lizard might in reality be a snake.

So what does a logical, collected and calm blind Nana do? I grabbed my most effective and best weapon—a broom. “Quick, honey. Guide Nana to the place you see it and I’ll sweep it away.”

After many diligent but futile efforts of chasing that reptile under the toy box, under the clothes hamper, inside the closet, we gave up.

Not knowing where it would appear next, peace for the day slithered out, too.

You’ve been there, haven’t you? Life is going along fine and then suddenly something appears unwanted, unexpected.