 Funny story.... pet related | 
06-15-2007, 08:49 AM
#1 (permalink)
|
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 the y 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 t o 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 . . . mas****ate. 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 < BR>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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Edited for mild censorship |
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