A few days ago, I tweeted that a giant gecko had run into my house. And I know, I exaggerate sometimes. No really, I know you're shocked, but not everything I write is totally serious and accurate.
But THIS WAS A DRAGON. For serious. It breathed fire at me and flew around the room, knocking stuff off the shelves and roaring.
You're never going to trust me again, are you?
Anyway, Jack caught it. And honestly? He was even grossed out. It was nasty.
Seriously. The thing is ridiculous. Also? I'm pretty sure he was the same one that I had to have my dad come over and catch one night last year when Jack wasn't home.
Notice the same spots and line across the face in line with the eyes? Totally the same gecko, right?
Which means he has been taunting me for years. Or, well, for at least a year.
But I think he's done taunting me now.
My parents came over the other day. They visited for a while, and then we decided to go to dinner. They had already eaten, so they left through the front door and we went through the back. They took our dog with them (our dog likes their dog), so when I got home, I started walking out the front door to go pick her up from their house, when suddenly I saw something very jarring.
"AHHHHHHHHH!" I yelled, as I backed up.
"What?" Jack asked, surprised.
"AAHHHHHHHHH!" I repeated, pointing at the door. "AHHH! AH AH AH AHHHHH!"
I'm sure that really helped him determine what was wrong. But when he walked over and saw this:
...I think he figured it out.
You are horrified at this photograph. I KNOW. I AM TOO.
When my parents swung the door closed, the gecko on its way inside.
It got cut in half.
Its front-half was inside.
Its back-half was outside.
There was definitely blood.
And for once in my life, I think being afraid of a gecko was totally rational.