Birth? of a Lizard. {joke}

> "Lizard Birth"

>

> 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 wasgoing 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 G~d'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 . . . [email protected] 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!

>