Dupontster
Would THIS face lie?
Subject: Lizard Birthing 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 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 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. (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 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. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr..
Cameron."
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 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.
2 - lizards - $140...
1 - Cage - $50...
Trip to the Vet - $30...
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's wacker -.....Priceless..
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 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 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. (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 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. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr..
Cameron."
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 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.
2 - lizards - $140...
1 - Cage - $50...
Trip to the Vet - $30...
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's wacker -.....Priceless..
Du knows.
It was funny as hell though.... 
