He had a huge, long pointy tail and his head was like the knot in a tree and I had a blonde brain fart --vaguely remembering that somewhere, someone told me turtles can make you their bitch.
But I thought, "Well, hell it's a turtle. I'll just be careful and grab him by the ass."
But I parked and went inside first, hoping I wouldn't witness his smooshing death on the pretty busy road because of my caution.
I pointed him out to the groomer's assistant and she said, "Oh fuck, that's a snapper. Shit girl, glad you didn't try and touch it." (Yes, that is word for word, I love these ladies!)
And I follow her out thinking, "Overreacting much?"
Damn.
She went into the woods and got a huge stick that was as thick as my dick, if I had one.
She looks at me and says, "Hope this is thick enough."
She heads at the ugly turtle like he's a fistful of cobras. So I watch. She walks out into the road and starts poking him.
"These things are vicious fuckers."
And I'm all like, "A turtle? Seriously?"
Then EVERYTHING I EVER KNEW changed. My view of turtles would forever be altered! I was startled as it turned around, looked her dead in the eye, and tried to take a huge bite out of the stick!!
A turtle!! So, long story longer-- I go into my van and grab a fold-able soccer chair. I won't let this lady die a horrible death in front of me without at least trying to help her.
The assistant looks over her shoulder and says, "Now he's 'bout to RISE UP!"
And for hairy ball's sake he DID!! That fucking thing got on its tip toes and lashed its head back and forth!
Who KNEW? So I say, "Damn let's let it get run over!"
Because I'm a real animal lover but this thing just went all Voldemort on our asses.
She refused and insisted on getting it across the road. Then it starts charging US! All this time, we're in the center of the damn road, her with a stick, me with a chair and I have to poke it to defend myself as IT CLASPS ONTO MY CHAIR!
So, I've no idea what to do I don't want to hurt it, but who knows what it can do with a weapon? It weighs as much as a bowling ball and I try and shake it off. The snapper falls down and ROLLS OVER ninja-style! A TURTLE! At this point, I'm laughing so damn hard I can't help they lady any more, and I don't think I was helping anyway. I decide to back up, piss my pants, and watch for cars.
The assistant is like the snapper turtle whisperer and she gets it on their neighbor's property. Then she has to warn the people in the house that the Chuck Norris of turtles is in their yard, ready to kill their asses. And that was that. My dogs got groomed, I warned my kids against the dangers of turtles and DAMN.
Who knew?
Then I googled that shit and found two videos to show you what they can do to you! The first one is hilarious. I was not expecting to cackle at an informational video.
Then, I found this one of a HUGE turtle eating a watermelon. and I thought of my meaty thighs and I was grateful I made it out alive.
This is also a blog hop! And also, this just in! Crushed Seraphim won favorite story of the month!!! What? I know. I ripped my shirt off, fell to my knees screaming in ecstasy! Then I realized I was in Wal-Mart and feared I would be arrested! Then I looked around and saw three other moms doing the same thing because Wal-Mart can do that to you!! Check out my sweet ass badges:
always used for stinky armpits. That's about where I am now. I'm stinky for Disney.
We were blasting off at 3:30am. The kids and I were still bouncing off
the walls at 2:30am. Eventually we fell sound asleep, and Mr. A
woke us up one hour later. And we were off.
He doesn’t want to pose right next to the entrance doors like a
Wal-Mart exhibit. Don’t tell him, but I'm starting to agree. But I love
a good deal and we never did find my dignity, so we dressed up and went
to Wal-Mart. The hardest part is waking up the drunken “photographer.”. Really, he’s just there to turn on the technological nightmare that will
give up the "deal" (a horrible picture in the worst lighting
available). We position ourselves so we can all see our heads. The
“photographer” trips and accidentally takes the picture. We approve it
from a distance. Six more pictures later, we're on our way. I'll be
able to pick up this important piece of Anastasia heritage in two weeks. Mr. A glares at me as I insist on doing a little shopping. Dressed
up. Why it is such a crime to be dressed up in Wal-Mart is a mystery to
me? 
). 
always made a mad dash for the door when opened. 
The kids are picking out reasonable prepackaged treats. The cashier line is almost empty. 
Fresh from the vine or the butter vat. 
We took a deep breath. 
for the remainder of our visit. The next morning we piled up our
plastic Mickey bags full of the things we had to have. We always save
the bags and use them months later. Like a special treat. It's hard to
throw Mickey away. 
