Make Peace with the Cobra

We have a cobra living at our house now. At night it makes the most awful high-pitched screeching noise: gweek! gweek! gweek!

I wouldn't think a snake could make such a noise, but then again, listen to the cicadas, crickets and geckos, who compete with the cobra in the nighttime air.

We know where it lives: somewhere among the weeds and piles of boards left over from the house construction, just outside Thun and Jason's bedroom. Naturally, nobody wants to go in there to hunt it and face a battle of death. "Don't worry," Poo's father assures me, "it's not a King Cobra; it does not attack; it will only bite if you step on it."

I have decided to make peace with the cobra.

I have a nest of bees living in the side of my house. At first, I thought, "get the Raid"-- I wanted to kill them with chemicals, but I didn't want to dress up for the battle of death so I decided to make peace with them. I walk past them every day. I duck my head as they buzz around my scalp---I'm so respectful that I don't even look at their hive. So far, they have never bothered me.

I hope the cobra does the same.