Lisa Scottoline: My new boyfriend is a snake

I have a new boyfriend.

Unfortunately, he's a snake in the grass.

Literally, not figuratively.

I divorced my figurative snakes.

Let me explain.

Spring has sprung, and last week on St. Patrick's Day, I went out to my garden. I hadn't done any gardening yet, which, if you recall from last season, is not my forte.

I started a perennial garden that's perennially horrible.

My problem seems to be one of excess, in that I do too much of everything. I don't water plants, I waterboard plants.

But hope springs eternal, just like weeds, and I went out to my garden last week to start all over again. The garden is right outside my front door, divided in two sides by my front walk, and it was mostly brown after winter. But it was green in spots, and I went into the garden and started to look really closely, to see if anything was growing.

I thought I saw something moving, but I figured it was my imagination.

So I looked closer.

It wasn't. It was a little green tip of something, sticking out from under a rock, and, on impulse, I moved the rock.

And freaked the hell out.

Because right before me was a writhing mass of full-grown snakes.

I ran screaming back into the house.

By the way, recall that it was St. Patrick's Day and the legend of St. Patrick is that he drove the snakes from Ireland.

Evidently, he drove them into my garden, where they have taken up residence.

I stood inside the house, shuddering and watching the spot where the snakes had been, but it was hard to see them from a distance. I couldn't tell what kind of snakes they were, which worried me. If they were garter snakes, I could pretend none of this had happened and go about my life.

Of course, I was doubting I would ever garden again.

Or even walk to my front door.

Not to mention that I've been thinking about adding a little room onto the front of my house that I've been calling the garden room, so that I could see the garden from the kitchen.

Now I wasn't sure I wanted to see the garden.

Ever again.

But if the snakes were poisonous, I supposed I would have to call an exterminator, which I didn't want to do. I like living things too much to kill them, even a snake.

That's just how I feel about animals.

There are, however, a few people who remain excellent candidates for homicide.

But I hear that's against the law.

To return to the point, I got my courage up, went back outside, and stood at a safe distance to see what the snakes were up to. They were all gone except for one, slithering on top of the stone wall around the garden.

At first, he gave me the creeps, but the more I looked at him, the less scared I got of him. He was green and black, so I figured he was a garter snake and he wouldn't try to kill me, so I wasn't going to kill him. Then I took pictures and videos of him, and, in short order, he became the most-photographed snake in the world.

If you don't count certain presidential candidates.

Take your pick.

My lips are sealed.

Actually, they're sssssssseealed.

To make a long story short, I spent a lot of time watching that snake, and the next thing I knew, he was actually watching me.

I'm not kidding.

His face was turned in my direction, and his dark eyes looked at me directly, or as directly as they could, given that one eye is on the left side of his head and the other's on the right.

It's not an attractive look for anybody but a snake.

Plus, he had a little red forked tongue, which he flicked in and out.

Sexy.

I mean, this was the Bradley Cooper of snakes.

And you know what?

I'm going to keep him.

And, in the end, maybe I turned out to be a great gardener.

Because I grew snakes.

Look for Lisa and Francesca's latest humor collection, "Does This Beach Make Me Look Fat?" Also, look for Lisa's new Rosato & DiNunzio novel, "Corrupted," in stores now, and her new emotional thriller, "Most Wanted" coming April 12.

lisa@scottoline.com.