Tuesday, June 22, 2010

A dead lizard, that’s who.

I know I’ve gone a little overboard with the whole lizard thing  a for while, what with the lizard climbing up my arm out of a shripping nest or the zombie lizard on the living room carpet a few weeks ago, so I’ve been trying to keep subsequent and  HORRIFYING lizard stories to myself before this turns into Shark Week and everyone writes to tell me that I have not given lizards a fair shake.

Trust me, they get more than enough shaking around here. 

AS I WRITE THIS there is a damn lizard in my bedroom under the lid for Killer Bunnies. It’s a game, and now like Guess Who and Rumikube it has become forever associated with the trapping of a lizard until Jon comes home to tell me if it’s dead or not. Or if he isn’t sure either.

I like lizards! Or, I really did like lizards. I used to find them sort of mysterious and quirky, and I loved the way they were always doing push-ups in between working on their scaly tans.  Now, I would say for the first time in my life I have something approaching a phobia.  Overreacting? Well in the last few weeks Spooky has presented me with no less than 9 lizards. 3 of those were dead and in pile form directly beneath my sleeping head under my bed. Sure, bonus that they were all dead, but NO bonus that I had to wriggle on my stomach with a paper towel and grab a handful of DEAD LIZARDS and wiggle back out hoping none of them would resurrect in my hand before I dropped them in the trash bag and was allowed to start fully freaking out.

And what about the time I was thoroughly enjoying talking to my very pregnant friend, who shall remain nameless, <cough>erin<cough> who was calling from work to tell me that she had just discovered her underpants were on backwards? She knew I had been a little blue and nothing would cheer me up like backwards maternity underwear at work, when in the middle of this spectacular charity I reached down between the chairs to grab my glass of water and my fingers grazed a LIZARD that had just been deposited there by the cat now cleaning herself on my lap.

I shouted in the phone and right into poor Erin’s ear! Then I proceeded to get off the phone and send her pictures on my cell phone of the following CHAOS which included (but was not limited too) attempting to pick up the dead lizard by it’s tail with a paper towel only to have the tail dislodge itself from the now apparently living lizard in the worst slow motion slime and horror movie way possible and RUN at me… because I have it’s TAIL and it wants it BACK  (of course).

Although getting this text message in response did almost make it all worth it “holy crap u r going 2 send me into labor! or i might pee in my backwards underwear! get out of there before it eats u all!!” At least she is taking this as seriously as I do.

Then there was the time I was talking to Aimee when Spooky came screeching in the back door right towards me and it wasn’t until the last second that I realized she wasn’t running toward me, but chasing something toward me, and this thing was a silent FAST scaly demon bent on hiding in my pants (I’m sure) and I still have to apologize to Aimee for yelling into the phone and not explaining that Russell was not bleeding from a head wound before hanging up to trick the lizard out of the coat closest so I could trap it in an industrial orange bucket.

And that’s not counting all the other stories we have here with the very dead, undead, or not-at-all dead visitors we have been having in lizard form lately.

And yet, and yet! I know there is something wrong with me, but the thing is, despite the horror (I have had dreams about the soft scratching sound of the tiny sharp claws <shivers> you know, the ones attached to those long lizard fingers that move those dry lizard bodies in the almost silent and lightening fast way they have that you will miss if you blink), and despite knowing this is going to KEEP happening… well, I actually really appreciate that while I’m keeping everyone in this house alive and fed and happy, there is someone else in this house who makes a regular habit of bringing me presents. Spooky doesn’t take her prizes to Jon, or the kids. It’s me every time. And, I have to admit, that kind of creepy dedication is the only thing saving her from an otherwise certain doom if I see ONE MORE LIZARD IN MY HOUSE!  0331001556 06110010400622000835 0615001341 06220008340622000830 0603000944a

5 comments:

LorraineinSpain said...

by far your best blog post yet. this is the one that's gonna make you millions someday. call google.

Ryan and Lillian said...

Hilarious!!! That cat must really love you!

Erin said...

waaahaaahaaa! I tried to tell Nic about this after it happened but I couldn't quite relay the absolute horror that must come from touching a "dead" lizard and having its torso come to life. That picture is going to haunt my dreams...it's like its entire butt fell off, not just the tail. That little episode made for the best backwards-underwear-at-work-day ever.

Erin said...

Oh, and by the way, I got the Courtyard Hounds CD because of you and I love love it.

madre said...

i am soooo glad that cat doesn't live at my house anymore! we have bazillions of lizards right outside the front door but none inside yet, yay. does it occur to you she always brings them when you are on the phone? just like the children, she wants your undivided attention...