> Subject: Lizard story
>
> 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 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 lizard 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. "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.
> 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.
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