Thursday, September 25, 2008

Slippery Customer

I am generally not a wimp. I have a high pain threshold, I am independent and have no trouble doing things alone, and I will ride the most ferocious roller coaster out there and most likely laugh through the whole trip.

But I do have one pretty significant fear--things that creep and crawl, specifically in my house.

I will go way beyond the call of duty to move a snail to a safer place or put a Daddy Longlegs spider where no one will step on him. If he's outside. But when creatures start embarking on my territory without paying rent, well, I get pretty upset.

With stints in Georgia, South Carolina, and Florida, I understand that the occasional roach will probably sneak inside. Don't get me wrong: I HATE them, but you learn to accept them as a part of life when you live in a hot and humid region. (The more genteel southerners call them "Palmetto bugs." They are in denial, and these are usually the same people who refer to the Civil War as "The War of Northern Aggression.")

What I never expected to face are the small lizards that continually appear in our Florida house. I see lizards everywhere; some are a dull brown, blending in with the sand, while others are a bit more colorful and much more animated, flaunting their throat flaps and doing push-ups to impress the ladies. Outside they're cute; I get a kick out of watching them scurry, convinced that I don't see them. But when they're scurrying up my bathroom wall or doing those push-ups on the bedroom carpet? I'm not amused.

Together, Marc and I have rescued at least three lizards this summer, usually by cornering them with Rubbermaid containers and then quickly ushering them out the front door. (It's great family fun, almost as much fun as pulling the sand spurs out of the yard!) Last night, however, as I reached for a measuring cup, my life flashed before my eyes as a two-inch-long critter leapt from my spice rack and raced away. I don't know where he is now, but I can tell you I probably won't sleep much until I find him.

So. Who wants to come over for dinner?


Michelle said...

I'll trade you that lizard for the cicada that somehow got in the house the other night... they're so creepy! Fortunately the cats cornered it and helped me get it out the door.

Sarah said...

you win! cicadas are weird, and loud.