Pay attention in biology class.
If you've raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet
syndrome, including toilet flush burials for dead goldfish, the story
below will have you laughing out LOUD!
We had to take my son's lizard to the vet.
Here's what happened:
Just after dinner one night, my son came up to tell us there was
"something wrong" with one of the two lizards he holds prisoner in his
room.
"He's just lying there looking sick," he told me. "I'm serious, Dad.
Can you help?"
My husband put his best lizard-healer expression on his face and followed him
into his bedroom. One of the little lizards was indeed lying on his
back, looking stressed. My husband immediately knew what to do.
"Honey," he called, "come look at the lizard!" "Oh, my gosh!" I
exclaimed. "She's having babies."
"What?" my son demanded. "But their names are Bert and Ernie, Mom!"
"Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we didn't want them to
reproduce," my husband said accusingly to me.
"Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" I
inquired. (somewhat sarcastically)
"No, but you were supposed to get two boys!"
"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son agreed.
"Well, it's just a little hard to tell on some guys, you know," I
informed them. (note the sarasm)
By now the rest of the family had gathered to see what was going on. My husband
shrugged, deciding to make the best of it.
"Kids, this is going to be a wondrous experience," he announced. "We're
about to witness the miracle of birth."
"Oh, gross!" they shrieked.
We peered at the patient. After much struggling, what looked like a
tiny foot would appear briefly, vanishing a scant second later.
"We don't appear to be making much progress," my husband noted.
"It's breech," I whispered, horrified.
"Do something, Dad!" my son urged.
"Okay, okay." Squeamishly, he reached in and grabbed the foot when it
next appeared, giving it a gentle tug.. It disappeared. My husband tried several
more times with the same results.
"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to know.
"Maybe they could talk us through the trauma." (me again with the sarcasm)
"Let's get Ernie to the vet," my husband said grimly. We drove to the vet with
my son holding the cage in his lap.
"Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he urged.
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little
animal through a magnifying glass.
"What do you think, Doc, a C-section?" the hubs suggested scientifically.
"Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, may I
speak to you privately for a moment?"
My husband gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
"Is Ernie going to be okay?" I asked.
"Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This lizard is not in labor. In
fact, that isn't EVER going to happen. . Ernie is a boy. You see, Ernie
is a young male. And occasionally, as they come into maturity, like most
male species, they um . . um . .. . masturbate. Just the way he did,
lying on his back" He blushed.
We were silent, absorbing this.
"So, Ernie's just, just . . . excited," I offered.
"Exactly," the vet replied, relieved that we understood.
More silence. Then I started to giggle. And
giggle. And then even laugh loudly.
Tears were now running down my face. "It's just ... that ...I'm
picturing you pulling on its . . .. its . . . teeny little . .. .."
I gasped for more air, to bellow in laughter once more.
We thanked the vet and hurriedly bundled
the lizard and our son back into the car. He was glad everything was
going to be okay.
"I know Ernie's really thankful for what you did, Dad," he told my husband.
"Oh, you have NO idea," I agreed, collapsing with laughter.
Two lizards: $140.
One cage: $50.
Trip to the vet: $30.
Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's winkie:
Priceless!
Moral of the story: Pay attention in biology class.
Lizards lay eggs!
= new reply since forum marked as read
http://whyevolutionistrue.wordpress.com/2011/10/13/live-bearing-lizards/
and one of the most interesting things - many know aphids and some other insects can reproduce by parthenogenesis, but there are a few reptiles that can as well
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parthenogenesis#Reptiles
yeah I know, I'm a dick. even though I don't have one.
but there isn't much humans can think of that doesn't happen in nature too
Now laughing harder at the "bond" Ernie and your husband share. I can see Ernie's eyes light up whenever your husband approaches the cage.
I'll never forget the first time I saw some odd leach-like looking object attached to my Painted Turtle. I thought OMG is his insides coming out? Nope it was just his extraordinary penis that he decided to unfurl one day. Live and Learn.
