Don't Lizards Hibernate?

At the end of my last note, didn't I mention I was going to go do chores or go sit on the couch and snuggle with the kids? Well, apparently I'm a big fat liar. I did neither of those things. I remained sitting here, checking personal email, checking work email, rummaging through a few favorite blogs.

As I sat here, I heard rustling among the boxes and papers on the floor under and near my desk. I thought to look, and then decided, no; I'd rather assume the rustling is being caused by a sneaky barn kitty who zipped into the house when Tanner brought in wood. Sure, that's it. It's just a fluffy, pretty kitty. No matter that I don't see anything out of the corner of my eye and those kitties aren't wee anymore. They look like full-size cats; if it were one of them I should be glimpsing a bit of fur, at the least. Still, a girl can pretend.

Yep, she can pretend - right up to the moment that the fattest stinkin' lizard she's ever seen waddles past with its silly stunted tail. Wanders right past the couch so she can't pretend it's not right there, with its clickety-clack little fingernails that I'm sure I'd be hearing hit the wood floor if the wood floor weren't littered with paper.

Did I mention it was kind of nice having the kiddos home today? I just called them right in here to take care of the foul creature. Ok, lizards are fine outside; inside, I'm just ticked that they're in my territory. I'm also ticked that our house is made of swiss cheese, allowing the fat lizards to find their way in. So, Tanner donned socks on his hands (since his doctors specifically said no holding reptiles while immunesuppressed) and devised his strategy for capturing the salmonella-laden little home invader.

He directed Macy to assume a position in front of the lizard, causing it to freeze in its tracks. Macy whispered that she was in position and that she was distracting the lizard. I looked up to see this meant she was staring it straight in the eyes and waving her fingers in a mesmerizing little motion, keeping its attention diverted so the fat little guy (who obviously isn't very quick or he wouldn't have a nub of a tail) wouldn't notice Tanner sneaking up behind him. (Dude, lay off the quail eggs, that's all I'm sayin'.)

In a flash, Tanner grabbed the sluggish lizard - it didn't know what hit him. It hung its head in shame, no doubt relieved its lizard buddies didn't witness its utter lack of defensive tactics. Then, after examining it closely but not directly touching it, Tanner deposited the chubby little fella outside.

You know, I'm assuming none of his lizard pals witnessed his embarrassing capture. What if his head drooped because his buddies did see his pathetic lack of instinct? What if the jeering, hateful little turds are lurking, waiting to resume the paper rustling? What if any second they're going to clamber over cardboard and begin rattling tax receipts?

I think it's time to go have quality time in the living room with the kids. They need their mother.

Then I seriously have to clean this room.

Love and gingerly steps from the farm,
Teri