Lizard.

(Short title, thinks you).

Anyway, there's this lizard just laying there in our kitchen for a few days now. At first my mom thought he was dead, but then he wiggled his, um, fingers(?) a bit, so, no, he's not dead. Then.

Today we sprayed him, to try and see whether he'd move away or not, because he was near the stove area, and we needed to cook (not that we can't cook when he's there, it's just that we're afraid that he might jump on our feet or whatnot while we're cooking. And that would be messy). He didn't move, not even when he got a face full of the spray (I saw his head get wet). So we thought he was dead. Then my mom went to church, while I turned on the telly (because lizards, besides cockroaches, really creep me out. I literally shudder, at the thought of them). And besides, it's not good to take in (and by this, I mean, inhale) the insecticide too much. Like this episode of the X-Files, they sprayed this guy that was crawling with insects and he died. They thought the insects was what killed him, but no. It was the insecticide. He breathed in too much of it.

So my mom came back, and the lizard decides to shift its original position, leading us to think (again!) that he wasn't dead. We left it for awhile, it didn't move, then my mom decided to throw it out. As my mom was scooping it up with an extra-long, um, that-thing-you-get-after-you've-finished-using-toilet-paper, the tail fell off. Gross.

I laughed. I know this is really mean, but it looked pretty comical.

Anyway, my mom finished disposing of the lizard (and his tail, and yes, this time the dude's really dead), and we threw the rubbish bag out, AND, for good measure, drenched the whole bag with insecticide.

Tomorrow: About why we did not get live coverage of the Emmys.