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'swhat 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, ³come 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.²We'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 gingerly 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, for God's sake.)
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. "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 vicious, 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. "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 Veterinarian 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," 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 pecker
....Priceless...
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'swhat 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, ³come 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.²We'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 gingerly 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, for God's sake.)
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. "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 vicious, 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. "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 Veterinarian 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," 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 pecker
....Priceless...
