(En arbetskollega mailade denna i morse)
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. (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. ”We’re about to witness the miracle
”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 t heir 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
He blushed, glancing at my wife. ”Well, you know what I’m saying, Mr.
We were silent, absorbing this. ”So Ernie’s just… just… Excited,” my
”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, 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.
(En arbetskollega mailade denna i morse)