I heard about copperhead snakes for the first time when I was about 10 years old. The babysitter I loved, Mrs. Prickett, would sometimes entertain me with stories from her past.
One day, she shared the saga of her run-in with a copperhead. She had gone down to the basement to retrieve a box, and when she moved it – surprise! There was the snake.
It was surprised, too, and it opened its jaws and spat five little baby snakes at Mrs. Prickett, one at a time, one right after the other.
Mrs. P. rocketed upstairs and threw a hysterical fit.
