I wasn't sure if I could post this over at
RTB so here it is:
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'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 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," come 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. (agai n 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. "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 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
&g t; 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. "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 viscous, cruel wife started to giggle. And
> giggle. And then even laugh loudly.
>
> "What's so funny?" I demanded, k nowing, but not believing that the
> woman I married would commit the upcoming affront to my flawless manliness.
>
> Tears were now running down her face. Laughing "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 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,"
>
> Closed mouth, my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
>
> 1 - Lizards - $140...
>
> 2 - Cage - $50...
>
> 3 - Trip to the Vet - $30...
>
> 4 - Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie...Priceless
>
> Moral of the story - finish biology class - lizards lay eggs
