50 mile lamentation

On my way home from Las Vegas last week, I ran over a snake on the 93 and it curled up. There was nothing I could do! It was easily 3+ feet long, which meant it was probably really old and someone's grandpa. If I would have swerved either way, I still would have hit it because it was dead center in the road. Dead center, indeed. Oi, what a tragedy. My mom who was sleeping in the passenger seat woke up when I screamed "I ran over a snake and it curled up like a rubber band!"  For the next 15 miles or so I grieved over this snake. "It was going to fast, it tried to get out of the way. It was probably someone's grandpa and his family is probably wondering where he is, 'Oh grandpa is probably just running late..' No their grandpa is dead because I killed him! Oh my god, mom, I just feel so bad." My mom was quiet for a few moments then said "Well you said he was thick, what if it was a mom taking food home to her babies." Really, Mom, REALLY?!