Recently, a few weeks before this episode, I started getting interested in curtains for my bed and giving long looks at Linens and Things that felt a little--well. I just don't think it's healthy to be trying to stroke high thread count sheets and staring at silk blends I cannot afford without a mortgage on my liver. And growl when people come too close.
Yeah. My most recent excursion had me forcibly removing myself from applying for a Linens and Things credit card. Not healthy.
The Bearded Dragon AKA Junior, the reason that I'll need blood pressure medication before my fortieth birthday, has grown to an astonishing and frankly creepy size. Child drags him out and carries him about the house and general area while he watches with tiny bead-black eyes and plots our demise.
I know, I *know* that it would be fairly hard for him to kill me. I'd basically have to lie down still for a few days and let him gum my throat to pieces. However, this does not stop my instinctive flinch every time he looks up. Plus, he's showing signs of depression, which argues homicide could be in the future. He lays around under his heat lamp and on top of his heating pad on his astroturf floor--and I will never recover from the knowledge a desert animal cannot have sand in his terrarium--and looks really flaccid. I've been told this is normal happy reptile behavior, but I see signs of psychosis in the way he twitches his tail when I have to walk by his territory.
My son is looking at the Unix lizard. Hmm.
Okay, it's not called a unix. It has a hideously complex double Latin name with a set of consonants that do not go together, but I call him Unix. They're pretty cool, as far as hideous reptiles go, with a terraced tail and a terrifying grimace that apparently hides a heart of pure gold. I'm really not falling for that.
Problem is, Child really wants him. And it is cheaper to buy crickets by the thousand and have them shipped. I wish I could say I was kidding, but I'm not.
Yes, I went back. Scene of my downfall, where I bought three rabbits and never looked back. Of course, it was breeding python day or something, so a massive terrarium set up front was chock full of four massive pythons. You could buy the entire set--why do you need three to breed?--along with cage--I'm assumign so you dont have to take them out and let them kill you. The biggest, the fourth, was sold separately and scared me silly. Later, I stared blankly at the soothing toads and cheerful turtles, after a gauntlet run of small yellow snakes, big green snakes, and Unnamed Things that frankly, I could live the rest of my life without having flashbacks of in my nightmares. However, they also had the *tiniest* little baby bearded dragons, and God, that's so deceptive. The tiny ones are like, less than the length of my finger and--as far as evil reptiles go--*adorable*.
They also had a miniature potbelly pig. No, I did not want him. But he and the hairless rats and the few bunnies there were basically my line to sanity while I picked out a new bowl for Junior and some jungle vine to put in his cage.
Mr. Waffles likes me and lets me hold him briefly if I keep up a pretty constant stream of petting. Really, do we need to know anything more?
I need to write something. Just--something. A focus point of relaxation from reptile and lapine evils.