Traumatized

So I was all set to write this nice post about a new FO and I’ll probably get to that, but first I need to vent, because I am traumatized.

There was a gecko in my bathroom.

A big one.

Not the cute friendly kind of gecko that blinks and walks on it’s hind legs and tries to sell car insurance with an engaging accent. This was one of those gross, bumpy, see-through geckos that liked to hide in cracks and crevices.

These geckos are my kryptonite. I know they’re not dangerous, not even a little bit, but they give me the major creeps. They can make me go from Strong Independent Women Who Don’t Need No Man to Little Girl Screaming for Daddy in about three seconds flat. And it was in my bathroom! That place where you are most vulnerable. Just creepin’.

So of course, being the Strong Independent Woman that I am, I sent my Dad in there armed with a flashlight, a styrofoam cup, and a knitting needle(for nudging, not stabbing. I will have no gecko guts, thankyouverymuch!).

And he couldn’t find the gecko.

He accused me of overreacting. pshhh…What is that?

He couldn’t find it, so he just left, leaving me to frantically scan the bathroom, knowing that if I didn’t find it, I’d never bathe again (or sleep!). That little bugger was hiding in the hardest spot, on the very top of the underside of the counter, all the way back close to the wall. But I found it. Then promptly ran screaming for Daddy again. As far as I know, he caught it and released it back into the wild. I did not stay for the action, because what if it runs my direction? No thank youuuuu.

So that is the story of why I am flustered. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

*I tried to add a picture of one of these geckos to the post, but I couldn’t find one without shuddering. Just google House Gecko. Bleuugh!*

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