Tragedy at the Farm: Squeezie Donna Edition

Crazy things happen on the farm.

I spent a few days out at my parents walnut farm this week, where I lazed around and listened to chicken talk. They discussed the roosters, and the high cost of feed, and worried about the mysterious disappearance of eggs. They also conspired to lay their eggs in the woodpile, to throw the evil egg-snatching Farmer’s wife off.
My baby sister is on the farm too.
Isn’t she cute?

Now is the time to announce that this post is not for the faint of heart, nor for those who are especially attached to the rodent species commonly referred to as “little white mice”.
Did you notice what my beautiful baby sister has wrapped around her arm?
It’s a Ball Python.
Double Ew.
I tried to talk her into getting a lizard, but obviously no one listens to me.
My mother was horrified. HORRIFIED. She is now living with a snake. A snake that lives about 30 years or so and will grow to be about 30 pounds, or five feet whichever comes first. It will probably need to live on rabbits or goats or something. Can you imagine?
To commemorate my mother’s reptile reticence, my sis and I quickly christened the awful creature Squeezie Donna (My mother’s name is Donna and um, the snake squeezes it’s prey to death so it seemed like a winning combination)(we did it to bug my mom).
That night, my sis asked me to sleep in her room (with Squeezie Donna). I said no.
She begged.
I said no.
She called upon our sisterhood.
So, I slept with a python in the room. The snake apparently requires a creepy red light to sleep at night. Creepy.
I finally drifted off but at about 3 am I saw a shadowy figure lurking over me, the red glow faded to black…then there was a mysterious “CHhhchhchchchchchch” sound.
My sister was spraying the snake tank at 3 am to raise the humidity levels for delicate little Squeezie. Who does that???!?! Needless to say, I’ve had more restful nights camping in the Arctic.
The time came to feed Squeezie. He needed a mouse. The snake book said he needed a livemouse. Hold onto your hats, things are about to get real!
My dad brought the mouse home. I looked in his little box, his beady red eyes looked intelligent, his whiskers were twitching with excitement.
It was terrible.
I didn’t let the boys watch. My sister couldn’t even do it. She made my Dad do it. All this drama and murder and tension caused my Dad to think up a little ditty.
(here is a picture of my Daddy. He’s the one with the pirate eye and the knife…which didn’t factor into the mouse death, Squeezie lived up to his name and did it himself without weapons of anykind, just his snake-y Chuck Norris muscles).
Anyway, try to imagine this song with jazz hands, because Dad definitely threw those in:
“I’m a happy mouse! When I’m in your house!
Oh look! a brand new friend to play with, hurrah!
I’m a happy mouse! When I’m in your house! I’m so glad to have a brand new home!
I’m a happy….phttt (at this point my dad would roll his eyes back into his head and stick his tongue out).”
At this point, there were only two happy people in the farm house: Squeezie Donna and my Dad, the cold hearted Animal Science Major.
The end.

23 thoughts on “Tragedy at the Farm: Squeezie Donna Edition

  1. LOL – thanks for that, I needed it tonight! After self-diagnosing and wanting to check myself in for my very own IV pole….

    And you're a rockstar sister – sleeping with Squeezie Donna and her red light?! Fureaky!


  2. Oh Lindsay, I'm so glad someone thinks I'm funny! (Besides me, I think I'm funny).

    I just noticed that my mom's drawer is open in the knife picture! I've inherited that gene that never closes stuff! Proof! I can't help but open and forget to shut!!!


  3. Words cannot express all the thoughts running through my head. Things like- your sister is too pretty to be a deadly-kitten-eating python owner. Redlights and midnight mistings?!?! Your Dad's a hoot and would get along great with my dad. and Eeew, my skin is crawling.

    Last but not least- Please, please don't let your children spend the weekends with Squeezy.

    Not once did I think about a drawer being open.


  4. Haaahhaa!
    So, I think that snake is awesome and if it didn't get so big and it didn't need 3 a.m. mistings and I didn't have two iddy-biddy puppies, I would get one. . .
    I'm glad your back!


  5. #1 I always thought you were funny.

    #2 Does your sister have the “leave-things-open gene”? 'Cause snakes have been known to escape and eat neighbors' pets.

    #3 We used to have a water turtle that required live gold fish to eat. My husband would bring home the bag of fishies and my older daughter would squeel, “Yippie! Let's go watch the carnage!” That was so wrong…


  6. Y'know Squeezy will always be a snake. She will never outgrow her “snakeness” which is why my children aren't allowed to stay in houses that keep pythons and boa's at pets. No joke. I am shuddering just thinking about it..

    That being said, I strangely love snakes. I think they are beautiful. I am just not so happy with one in the house. Particularly one that can grow up to eat my children…

    But, that is one beautiful snake…Yes. I'm female, and my thoughts are often conflicted!


  7. if they don't have one already.. you should get your parents a sign that they can hang on their front door that says “welcome to the nut house”. you know those ones, with the cute little squirrels on them? you know, cause they are walnut farmers. not because they are nuts.


  8. Your family is nutty-crazy, and I mean that in absolutely the best way possible. The story of your sister humidifying Squeezie at 3 a.m. made me guffaw loudly in my office at work.


  9. Well, not I'm mad at you about this whole snake thing. I did not need to see a snake right now. My peeps just left me with a quiet house for ONE HOUR and I should be writing chapter 2 of the B.O.P. but instead, I'm cringing over Squeezie Donna! Hmph.


  10. ok, could you please send the “text only” version of this post to my email address?

    because i was cruising along, scrolling, scrolling, another funny jo-ann post …

    and then WHAM-O! i'm having cardiac arrest, sanford and son style.

    this mama no likey snakes.


  11. I can't let my 8yo see this. He doesn't know you can buy those things and have them as pets! He petted one at our local library snake show. Only it was so big it took 7 people to hold it… Thirty years? Wowsa.


  12. ok, because ILIVEWITHABALLPYTHON, i totally know every part of this post! and, um, we were told they live to be 35, which is important because after 30 years, 5 more are pretty relevant. you're dad is hysterical (and this must be from where you get it??), and i even think it's funny bc you labelled it “tragedy”. so funny. oh, and one more thing, if it stops eating and you find it stretched out on your bed? it's sizing you up for dinner. (and don't ask how i know) just sayin.


  13. ha! i absolutely adored this post (and am now wondering what that reveals about me? hmmmn)…especially that you & sis named the lil (for now) guy squeezie donna.

    are you accepting applications to be part of your family?



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