Oh-and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind...

"I want a snake. I want this snake."

Ellen promptly plonked her computer on my lap, wherein I was confronted with a very large picture of a very small snake. Something red and black and (by the text) non-poisonous. Can't remember what it was exactly, because...

"What the?!? You hate snakes!"

"But look at this one! He's so cute! He'd be just perfect for a tribal belly dance routine I've been thinking about!"

"You hate snakes! You scared everyone stupid at the aquarium because you backed into a snake exhibit and screamed like a chimp on helium. Remember the trash can incident?"

And this is where they cue the wavy lines...

The only real weakness of my bike was the tires it came with. They were, to be blunt, crap, getting punctures and blowing out just by driving past sharp gravel. While it's possible to patch inner tubes, it's simpler to just replace them and be done with it. Which I was doing for the third time that month.

Since it was the day before trash day, after I tossed the old tube I decided to be a really thoughtful husband-type and take the big wheeled trash can out to the curb. It was mostly empty anyway, since we hadn't put any of the regular garbage in it yet. So out the garage door it went, into the setting sun of a standard late-summer suburban afternoon.

"Trash taken out?" she asked as I walked upstairs.

"Yup. Want me to put the kitchen garbage in it?"

"Nah, I'll do that. It's your turn to wash Olivia." We take turns at our house, alternating between cooking duties and child-washing/bedding. So while Ellen gathered up the kitchen trash bag and a few boxes to be thrown out, I started to play "chase the baby", a well-known pre-bath ritual.

As I lifted the now completely "caught" baby for the trip upstairs, I looked out the window just as Ellen lifted the lid off the trash can outside. It was at that moment, and I swear only at that moment, that I remembered something.

The inner tube I'd thrown away bore an amusing and rather convincing resemblance to a snake. A really big snake too.

She spotted the thing in mid-toss. Suddenly the trash bag went from travelling in a nice, lazy arc to a hard underthrow, sailing impressively out into the street. Time seemed to suddenly slow down as boxes held in the other hand bounced off the car parked in the driveway three feet away. She must've jumped up and backward one, maybe two feet into the air, landing square on her butt, scrabbling in a reverse spider crawl that carried her all the way to the flower bed, a good ten feet from the curb. Miraculously, there was no scream, just a faint, desperate "shi-!! shi-!! shi-!!", barely audible through the open window.

At this point I was laughing so hard I had to put the baby down. But only for a moment, since I knew "in trouble" would be a minor description of what I was in after Ellen cautiously crept up commando-like to the trash can and peered inside. Time to wash the baby.

Luckily by the time she'd gathered everything up, dropped it in the can, and came back upstairs she'd calmed down quite a bit. It also helped to have a cute baby very close by. I mean, if you can keep from smiling when Olivia plays "splash splash!" with a huge grin on her face, you're just not human.

So the voice that came over my shoulder was more sardonic than enraged. "Had a flat tire yesterday?" she asked.

Without turning around, I said, "oh yeah, sure did. Changed it just before I came upstairs." Well, no cast-iron skillet to the head yet. "Heh... it's funny, you know, that inner tube actually sorta looked like a--"

Which was right about the time she shoved me into the tub. Olivia thought this was extremely neat, and clapped enthusiastically.

And that, my friends is how daddy learned to fold the inner tubes up and put them in a bag before throwing them away.

And this is where they cue the wavy lines again...

"But this is a little snake. Not scary at all."

"No snakes."

"Awww... c'mon... just a tiny one?"

"No snakes. Your mom would have a heart attack. My mom would have a stroke. You've been terrified of these things for as long as I've known you!"

*Pout* "You're no fun at all. Nobody would be scared of this little thing. Well," and here she got an evil grin, "maybe my mom would."

"No. Snakes."

*POUT!* "Fine." Dramatic pause. "What about a chameleon?"

She is frequently kind
And she’s suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She’s nobody’s fool
But she can’t be convicted
She’s earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she’s always a woman to me