Denouement

It wasn't really a restful night at The House. I kept imaging a lizard of gargantuan proportions traipsing through the butter dish, maybe climbing the stairs and scampering across my fingers as I lay sleeping. The Husband even (inadvertently) left a bowl of popcorn open on the counter overnight. Sad to report I accused him of trying to feed the creature.

I was glad to be out of the house for the morning -- finally attending the Bible study I'd prepared for yesterday -- if, for no other reason, than not to be looking over my shoulder or picking my feet up off the floor (couldn't stand the thought of it crawling across my toes).

During my regular afternoon computer time, I happened to catch a small movement out of the corner of my eye: A tail and tiny foot underneath a stuffed bear chair in the room. So I did what any red-blooded American woman (who just happens to find any sort of creepy-crawly things inherently repulsive) would do. I ran outside and called the Boys.

"There's been a sighting! Get in here!"

To their credit, they stopped playing basketball after only 2 more shots and did, indeed, come to conquer the lizard. Boy #1 had the presence of mind to grab his work glove -- only 1, for some reason. I gave him a bowl. Yeah, he didn't know what to do with it, either.

Turns out it wasn't a lizard, after all, but a "5-striped Skink," according to our resident expert in all things reptilian. I wasn't getting close enough to count his stripes nor to see if his tongue was blue, but his tail certainly was.

After about 10 minutes of screaming, squealing, frenzied moving of furniture, toys and just about everything else in the room (several times), we all had our heart rates up, but capture eluded us. The scene wasn't pretty:

We'd lost the lizard, and had a massive clean-up to do. The only redeeming point was that my eldest had managed to dislodge and kill a huge centipede during the episode. So we started putting things back in place, when the creature showed himself again. The chase was back on!

This time, my boy was cleverer. Instead of trying to trap it under the bowl -- which he, apparently, is unable to place completely flat against any kind of surface -- he worked up his courage to try to grab the thing. He succeeded, but dropped it before reaching the front door. I helpfully screamed informed him it was behind him (reminding him not to squash the silly thing). He pivoted, made one final, desperate lunge and tonight, Boy #1 is my hero. He is. . .

the skink whisperer.

We're all sleeping peacefully tonight.

-ma'am