Friday, September 15, 2006

To The Tiny Lizards Lounging in My Driveway Every Afternoon

Knock it off. I'm serious. I know we live in the woods--YOUR woods, I know--but really, there IS a limit. You sit there, all sunbathing and sassy, looking--and SOUNDING, come to think of it, nowhere NEAR as cute as the Geico Gecko, right in front of my driveway gate, and you don't BUDGE to get out of the way of the rapidly approaching, GIANT MOTOR VEHICLE. I swear, if I run over some of you one day, it will be a bad scene, not because I'll feel sad for you, but because the thought of squishing lizards, even tiny ones, is just...ICK.

And you don't get out of my way when I get out of the car to open the gate until I am milimeters away from STEPPING ON YOU. You DO realize that you're each only about an inch and a half long, right? And that your tails pop off? (Yes, they do! Right OFF! Go ask your momma.) What is UP with this foolhardy lizard-machismo? Are you guys all hanging out there every day, waiting for me to get home, setting up some bizarre game of lizard-chicken with each other? Seeing who can hold out the longest before the looming radial tire, or beneath the lowering foot, before skittering off, lickety-split, into the fallen leaves?

Oh, and about that? The lickety-split leaf-skittering? Stop that, too, because it CREEPS ME RIGHT THE HECK OUT. I don't know how many of you there are, but I can SEE at least half a dozen every day, and when you get in those leaves, it sounds like your numbers are LEGION, or that you might have some very large relatives in there. Really. Send an emissary with a list of demands; we'll work something out. Or one day I just might snap and never slow down at the gate--just lay the pedal to the floor and go crashing through it, taking all of you with me, while screaming something loud and primal, from the depths of the warrior spirit which I am certain is in me...somewhere. Probably right behind that part of my warrior spirit that makes me hide in the bathroom in the face of such dangers as, um...repairmen.

Either that, or I swear I'm sprinkling some 20-Mule-Team Borax out there. Try to penetrate THAT defense! I mean, unless you, like, go around or jump over it or something. Dangit. Palaver it is, then. Meet me up at the top, near the mailbox.

11 comments:

  1. I'll trade you your lizards for my bunny rabbit. He sits in my driveway and just wiggles his nose and LOOKS at me when I drive up. Lounging around like he owns the place and when I finally honk at him to get him to move he sort of languidly hops off, saucy-like and in no great hurry.

    Who does he think he is with that kind of attitude? A cat?

    And we won't talk about all my plants he nibbles on like they're a bunny buffet.

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  2. Yes. That describes the attitude of these tiny lizards. Languid and saucy. And by the by--where am I supposed to be looking for an email from you? Gmail account?

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  3. Ha ha.. nice entry. I love it. Lizards are cool. They wouldn't last long here though. Sabre would munch them up. You need a cat! Or several.

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  4. Yup...sent it to you a while back. It's a yahoo account actually so maybe your spam filter is weeding me out? I'll try again this afternoon to see if you get it this time.

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  5. My cats loved to catch lizards and I would find them in the house without their tails. At my new house, Chauncey always tries to catch them, but they are usually too fast for her. I like watching for all the tiny, little, baby lizards when they are moving around.

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  6. Hey, Belinda, I put a special photo on my Besides Poodles blog just for you.

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  7. ooooooooh icky yucky eck......isn't there a spray or something that you can use...something completely toxic...get 'm go blast 'm outta there. GO!

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  8. Yep, we have gobs and gobs of lizards here, too. They're everywhere.

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  9. This post was so funny. I found your blog randomly and started reading and I love it.

    Death to all snakes and lizards... that's my motto.

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