My Hero

I have read a couple of his books before and they are laugh out loud funny. Today at the used book store Donna unearthed one of his from 2000 that I remember reading about, but never got around to actually reading the book. From Bill Bryson’s “In a Sunburned Country:”

“It’s all right,” she giggled. “It’s dead.”

We peered cautiously at the little object on her fingertip, a telltale red hourglass shape on its shiny back. It seemed unlikely that something so small could deliver instant agony, but make no mistake, a single nip from a redback’s malicious jaws can result within minutes in “frenzied twitching, a profuse flow of body fluids, and in the absence of prompt medical attention, possible death.” Or so the literature reports.

“You probably won’t see any redback’s out there,” Sonja reassured us. “Snakes are much more of a problem.”

This intelligence was received with four raised eyebrows and expressions that said, “Go on.”

She nodded. “Common brown, western taipan, western puff pastry, yellow-backed lockjaw, eastern groin groper, dodge viper…” I don’t remember what she said exactly, but it was a long list. “But don’t worry,” she continued. “Most snakes don’t want to hurt you. If you’re out in the bush and a snake comes along, just stop dead and let it slide over your shoes.”

This, I decided, was the least-likely-to-be-followed advice I have ever been given.

That is how I wish my words came out.