Not Personal? Like Hell. Bottom Line? So NOT Okay.

All of this happened on a playground, with my children under my feet, and dozens of other caregivers and kids standing witness, their jaws agape. Take it personally? You bet I will.

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Word. Peace Out, Pops. 

My father HATES snakes. Rather like Indiana Jones hates snakes, only more vehemently. When I was little, a black snake got into our farm house. I vividly recall his unrelenting flow of profanity as my dad chased it around the first floor, while my mom, brother, and I looked down from the upstairs hall. Without going into gory details, the snake…