I must confess that yesterday, I probably set feminism back 50 years.
With my arms full of darks, I swooped down to pick up a pair of Mr. T's jeans and came face to face with a scaly lizard. And not a giant scary lizard, no. An itty bitty, kind-of-cute-actually, lizard of the skink persuasion. Dainty. Diminutive. TERRIFYING.
Did I call T screaming like a girl? Yes, yes I did. Did I blast his ear drums when the dog confirmed that the creature was not in fact dead? Yes, yes I did. With a reptile ON THE LOOSE in my house, did I shut the bedroom door and escape to Starbucks? Yes, yes I did.
Not one to keep mortifying moments to myself, I posted a version of the preceding paragraphs on Facebook. At least my friends could have a chuckle at my full-body-sweat inducing panic. The best comment came from my sister Emily who told me that since I love alligators, I should just try and pretend it was a tiny alligator. If only.
I do understand that I'm a zillion times bigger than the thing. I do understand that it's probably more afraid of the screaming giant than I am of it (although that's debatable). I know it's completely and utterly irrational to be afraid, particularly when my friends' kids' geckos and bearded dragons don't really freak me out. Maybe it's the sneaky stealth lizardness I have a problem with?
Hours later, T came home and I resolved to find the creature. As it had taken up residence in our bedroom, I don't know that I could have fallen asleep without imaging skinks crawling the sheets. With trepidation, I lifted the wicker basket full of books and magazines, expecting to see my scaly friend. Nothing. I slowly pulled up the covers and waved a flashlight under the bed. Nothing. Prone on the mattress, I looked down and saw it trying to shimmy up the dresser.
"Teeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuummmmmmmm!" I shrieked as I jumped onto the bed. T walked in laughing, and unlike me who would have vacuumed him up (I know, I know), started looking for an implement of rescue.
With the skink safely draped on a paperback, T moved toward the door but first told me I should take a picture.
But pictures would require getting close to it. Perhaps I should grab my long lens?
In the end, I sucked it up and grabbed my point-and-shoot, and snapped this image:
January 20, 2012
|Just terrifying, right?|
P/S I do know I'm ridiculous. It's part of my charm, right? (ha!)
The Daily Pixel- January 1, 2012- Death Star Pancakes
The Daily Pixel- January 2, 2012- Double date in Half Moon Bay
The Daily Pixel- January 3, 2012- The Tiki Tiki Tiki Tiki Room, aka the scariest attraction at Disneyland
The Daily Pixel- January 4, 2012- The Wookie of my dreams
The Daily Pixel- January 5, 2012- Classic Disney
The Daily Pixel- January 6, 2012- Winter veggies galore
The Daily Pixel- January 7, 2012- Vanilla roasted pears
The Daily Pixel- January 8, 2012- Christmas waffles in January
The Daily Pixel- January 9, 2012- Curing the "Mondays" with a steak supper
The Daily Pixel- January 10, 2012- Seeing a man about some ankles
The Daily Pixel- January 11, 2012- A one-man walking protest in Tempe
The Daily Pixel- January 12, 2012- First week of school at Arizona State University
The Daily Pixel- January 13-19, 2012- Diapers, dogs, travel and gardening, oh my
Labels: alligators, fear, feminism, hazards, irrationality, laundry, lizards, Mr. T, personal, photography, photos, reptile, skink, The Daily Pixel