Elskulegir eðlueigendur

 

Sorry all, this was to funny! 
If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome,
including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story below is for you!

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!'
I reminded her, (in my most loving, calm, sweet
voice, while gritting my teeth).

'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 'Well, isn't THAT just
great? What are we going to do with a litter of tiny
little lizards babies?' my wife wanted to know.

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.  (Was that sarcasm??)

'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 goodness' 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.

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 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.
 

 

Bloggfærslan er alfarið á ábyrgð skrifanda en endurspeglar ekki á neinn hátt skoðanir eða afstöðu mbl.is, og Morgunblaðsins.

Þemað er elskulegheit

Athugasemdir

[Sporðdrekinn, 29.7.2008 kl. 21:05]

óh Guð! Ég er að kafna hérna

[Markús frá Djúpalæk, 30.7.2008 kl. 10:11]

 sendi björgunarsveit!

[Sporðdrekinn, 30.7.2008 kl. 15:19]

Takk!