Sunday night I suffered a severe bite from the cleaning bug. I had just rid myself of some of the clutter in our bedroom and headed to the bathroom to trash some paper. I opened up the door and there HE was…
A 12” long alligator lizard hanging out on my bathroom floor. His head spun to look at me like Carrie – without the projectile vomit of course.
Naturally I addressed this issue calmly.
And I jumped on the bed.
2 seconds later Chris came running in because he knows there are only 3 things that warrant that kind of scream:
1 – There is a thief in the house
2 – There is a murderer in the house
3 – They cancelled Judge Judy
I point (while still standing on the bed and screaming of course) to the bathroom.
Chris calmly closes the bathroom door, heads to the garage, and returns decades later with a box and some gloves. He goes back into the bathroom and after a few minutes says, ‘Hey babe, is the lizard out there?’
He opens and closes the door then looks at the bottom. ‘When I left to get the box, you watched the door right?’ he asked.
‘Because there is a space below our door that he can easily go under. He’s not in the bathroom so that can only mean he’s out here’ Chris said while gesturing toward the bedroom.
It was about then that I thought about how much I hate moving. Why did I think about moving? Because there was no way I was going to share my house with a glorified snake.
Shortly after, the danged thing stuck his head out from behind my computer which only elicited more screaming and chants of ‘Chris get him!!!!’
He eventually caught it but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to go to the bathroom or shower at home again.