Friday, July 28, 2006

The Lizard

I swiped this from a friend who emailed it to me. I've no idea who to credit for it, and worse yet, I've committed the sin of doing some minor editing too. So if the original author's ID should turn up, then: 1. Sorry, please excuse. It was just too funny to pass up. 2. Thanks for the great story!

***The Lizard***

If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below will have you laughing out LOUD!

Overview: I had to take my son's lizard to the vet. Here's what happened:

Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell me there was "something wrong" with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his room.

"He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious dad, can you help?" I put my best lizard-healer statement on my face and followed him into his bedroom.

One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed. I immediately knew what to do.

"Honey," I called, "come look at the lizard!"

"Oh my gosh!," my wife diagnosed after a minute. "She's having babies."

"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!"

I was equally outraged. "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to reproduce," I accused my wife.

"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she inquired. (I actually think she said this sarcastically!)

"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!" I reminded her (in my most loving, calm, sweet voice, while gritting my teeth together).

"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.

"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," she informed me. (again with the sarcasm, you think?)

By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.

"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience," I announced. "We're about to witness the miracle of birth."

"Oh, gross!" they shrieked.

"Well, isn't THAT just great! What are we going to do with a litter of tiny little lizard babies?" my wife wanted to know. (I really do think she was being snotty here, too. Don't you?)

We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.

"We don't appear to be making much progress," I noted.

"It's breech," my wife whispered, horrified.

"Do something, Dad!" my son urged.

"Okay, okay."

Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed the foot when it next appeared, giving it a gentle tug. It disappeared. I tried several more times with the same results.

"Should I call 911," my eldest daughter wanted to know. "Maybe they could talk us through the trauma."

(You see a pattern here with the females in my house?)

"Let's get Ernie to the vet," I said grimly. We drove to the vet with my son holding the cage in his lap.

"Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.

"I don't think lizards do Lamaze," his mother noted to him.

(Women can be so cruel to their own young. I mean what she does to me is one thing, but this boy is of her womb!)

The Vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little animal through a magnifying glass.

"What do you think, Doc, a C-section?" I suggested scientifically.

"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

I gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.

"Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.

"Oh, perfectly," the Vet assured us. "This lizard is not in labor. In fact, that isn't EVER going to happen...Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like the males of most species, they Just the way he did, lying on his back."

He blushed, glancing at my wife.

"Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr. Cameron."

We were silent, absorbing this.

"So Ernie's just...just...excited," my wife offered.

"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.

More silence. Then my viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.

"What's so funny?" I demanded, knowing, but not believing that the woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.

Tears were now running down her face. Laughing. "It's just...that...I'm picturing you pulling on its...its...teeny little..." she gasped for more air to bellow in laughter once more.

"That's enough," I warned. We thanked the Vet and hurriedly bundled the lizards and our son back into the car.

He was glad everything was going to be okay.

"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you've done, Dad," he told me.

"Oh, you have NO idea," closed mouth, my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.

2 Lizards - $140...
1 Cage - $50...
Trip to the Vet - $30...
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie...Priceless.

Moral of the story: Finish biology class. Lizards lay eggs!


pepektheassassin said...


And, I see you are awake...for a minute or two....ZZZzzz...zzz...z.....z..

Granny J said...

Hah! Wrong! The Fates tempted somebody to make a sweeping statement.

Shortly after my late husband & I arrived at our new home in high desert Arizona, we captured a little horned toad (really a lizard). We were looking at the creature, who looked a little stout --up on the table. Suddenly there was a wee little hornie toad. And then another. And another. Maybe 12 in all. Fortunately, the LH had his camera handy; he got a blue ribbon from the County Fair for the pictures.

The horned toads (lizards) do live birth -- barely. The birth process apparently breaks open the eggs during the passage down the birth canal.

I don't know what the male horned toads do while their ladies are giving birth.

Livey said...

HAHAHAHAHA! Thanks for the giggles hun, hope you are feeling better! Love ya.

Nancy said...

WHoaaa. Grannyj! That would have been memorable for anyone.

But I couldn't help thinking, OUCH, when I heard about the breaking shells inside. erkss.

Mind Building said...

Great blog! I was surfing the web to find tips on Mind Building. If you are interested have a quick look at so we can exchange ideas.

k said...

Granny J, while I never had such a wondrous experience with one, I used to catch those hornie toads as a little girl. Til the folks *kidnapped* us kids and forcibly removed us from sunny Arcadia, CA and desert camping trips, to cold Lincolnshire, IL and north woods camping - right in Livey's back yard.

Some snakes give live birth too, and were revered by the ancients for that special magical power.

Me, I wouldn't want eggshells breaking inside either! We've got it bad enough in childbirth, but some insects do things like explode when their little ones get too big inside.


Makes me wanna take a nice nap...zzzz........

Anonymous said...

best regards, nice info » »

Anonymous said...

see our special blog -

[url=] lipitor muscle pain [/url]
[url=] lipitor dangers [/url]

Anonymous said...

get to know nice new site -

[url=] buy vicodin online [/url]
[url=] vicodin purchase [/url]