Standing on a chair. There I was standing on a chair freaked out of my mind. I guess it’s not a normal response for most people, but it was for me. Most people wouldn’t have paid attention to it. Just another resident of their neighborhood.
Me?
Yeah I’d seen them before, plenty of times when I went to go visit my sister in Florida. Plenty of them hanging out by the pool, just getting a tan I guess and, I’d seen plenty of them at the zoo. I’d even seen them in Rango … that Johnny Depp … very awesome. But all of this took place outdoors. The Great Outdoors. They were hanging out in their natural habitat — a place with sunlight, plants, palm trees, cactus, and dirt.
Today they were not hanging out in their neighborhood. Today they were indoors. Today they were hanging out in the kitchen.
Let me tell you something, a kitchen is no place for a lizard. It’s just not.
Image via Steve Creek Wildlife Photography.
It’s really not. I know it’s only about five inches long, and I know it’s practically harmless. Practically being the key word here. You never know. There could be that one bionic lizard that decides to be a nonconformist and attack me or something. I don’t know, it could happen. So this small chance really freaked me out. And I guess it’s strange to hear considering that I think of myself as a strong woman. But I have my moments … most of these freak-me-out-jump-on-a-chair moments revolve around insects, roaches, rats, or small creatures with tails that scamper.
This was no different except my kids were with me this time, distracted by the Sprout Channel, so they had no idea that I was standing on the chair with the heebie-jeebies. I called my dude to inform him of my little standoff, but he was of no help of course. He told me not to freak out, that they were harmless.
Yeah I know they were harmless. I got that part. However I was way beyond rational thinking. I was in freak-me-out mode. When I’m on that chair, the only thing helping me is if that wiggly tail finds itself outdoors, where it belongs. However, my dude didn’t seem to quite get that part of the puzzle. He just kept telling me not to freak out. Yeah … that didn’t help me. The more he repeated it, the more I felt like telling him to jump off a cliff. He said he’d eventually take care of it when he came home in about two hours.
Dude.
So I looked over to my fourteen-year old dalmatian, Pinta, to investigate. I thought she might catch it. Back in the day she was the master squirrel chaser and bee catcher, like Grease Lightning. Yeah … that didn’t happen today. I think she has osteoporosis. She took one look at me, slowly walked around the kitchen, sniffed the refrigerator, and then licked a Cheerio that had rolled under the cabinets. She could care less that I was standing on a chair. She could care less that I was freaked out of my mind. She probably looked at me thinking ‘what the hell’s a matter with you?’
Dogs. They fear no lizard, they just fear a shortage of Cheerios. So I stood there, on the chair, by the stove stirring the albondiga soup and waiting for the lizard to make his move.
It was a long evening.
The Wish Factor 