Lizard Birth"
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 expression 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 exclaimed. "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 said accusingly to my wife.
"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign
in their cage?" she inquired. (I think she actually said this
sarcastically!)
"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!"
"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!)
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.
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.
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 most male species, they um . . um . . .
masturbate. Just the way he did, lying on his back" He blushed,
glancing at my wife.
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 vicious, cruel wife
started to giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh loudly.
Tears were now running down her face. "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 lizard 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 did, Dad," he told me.
"Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
Two lizards: $140.
One cage: $50.
Trip to the vet: $30.
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie:
Priceless!
Moral of the story:
Pay attention in biology class.
Lizards lay eggs!
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March 13, 2022, 09:54