So, we're in this borrowed house, sharing space with a hoard of giant mutant cockroaches and several crazed kamikaze gekkos. Each morning before the kids get up, I patrol for buggy bodies- some dead and some still wriggling. This AM brought only two - one in the kitchen sink and a pony-sized brute in the bathroom off the room here the kids are sleeping.
In view of all the roaches-whom I loath- I take a pretty friendly attitude towards the gekkos. But try explaining that to them. I ran into a little one in the bathroom at about 6am today and despite my reassurances of good intentions towards him/her and all his/her kind it completely panicked and ran straight up the wall. Sadly, he had apparently not been informed by older and wiser lizards that his super -sticky feet would NOT be enough to hold him to the ceiling.
Luckily I saw what was happening and dodged out of the way as gravity had its way with him.
It's a happy ending: gekkos are amazingly bouncy. He scrambled off with no apparent harm done.
And I hold no grudges, despite the fact that he nearly landed on my head.
May he live long and munch many more roaches!
Yesterday was Tya's 15th birthday. But Severin remarked that it must have been her 5th, as the cake looked like it was made by Dr. Seuss. In my defense, it's VERY hard working in an unfamiliar kitchen. So, if her cake was somewhat lopsided and sported a pretty alarming shade of pink, it was not entirely my fault.
Plus, didn't mom always say that it's the thought that counts?