Speed Freak and Frozen Part Deux

One of the ladies I work with just started reading my blog.   She left this on my
keyboard for me this morning.   Geckos....they're everywhere.

I’ve been a bit surprised by how popular the "Sweet Baby Jessica in the Well" post has been.    It’s one of the most clicked on posts on the blog.   Either you all thought I was utterly ridiculous about the geckos and told your friends, or you loved the thought of those sweet tiny Baby Geckos as much as I did.  Whichever it was, here’s a  quick update on the Gecko twins and my house, which I like to call Gecko Hot Zone, or GHZ for short.

Big Daddy updated everyone about what happened after I clicked publish the other day by leaving a huge, mondo long comment on the post.  

If you didn’t see it, I’ll give you a quick run down from then to last night.

When I came home from work after worrying all day about the tiny baby Gecko Twins being eaten by the alligators in the sewer or drowning should someone take a shower, I found out Big Daddy had actually had the nerve to wash his stinky body while I was at work. 

How dare he? 

He couldn’t sacrifice not smelling like Axe Body Wash for one more day so those babies would have a chance to climb up the comb Gecko Ladder to Freedom?    Oh the humanity…. or lizardanity.   It’s like the Hindenburg, except with lizards instead of  people and water instead of fire and just two geckos instead of the dozens who lost their lives.  

Okay. 

It’s nothing like the Hidenburg.   But I just kept thinking about Nemo at the Dentist’s office rushing down that pipe screaming as though he  was riding the Log Ride at Six Flags.  The Gecko Twins never had a chance.    *sigh*

After all the drama and heartache of worrying about Frozen and Speed Freak, I just couldn’t cook dinner that day.  Big Daddy charitably decided to take the family out to the local Chinese buffet.  Nothing tastes better than cat when you’re sad.   

Seriously.  That’s what my fortune cookie said, and I believe it.   ;)

When we came home from contributing to the statistics of nation-wide obesity, I looked in the bathtub, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a miniature gecko running hot laps around the tub.  

Speed Freak?  Very possibly.

A heretofore unknown triplet?   Oh,  Heavens, I hope not.  

I started screaming for The Kid to corral PsychoticKitty, and then get her dad.  Meanwhile, I threw a washcloth over the drain and tried to head Possible Speed Freak off at the pass.    He was determined to go down the drain though, and I was making crazy, “Oh, Oh, Oh,” noises and maneuvering around the tub trying to keep him away from the Drain of Death and Drowning.   I probably looked like I was having some sort of seizure.    

I’m sure it was a YouTube worthy moment.

Big Daddy arrived from his secret after-dinner smoke and rescued Possible Speed Freak  (Yes, he started back smoking, the Dirty Dog.  Yes, I’m giving him hell about it every chance I get.   No, it’s not a secret;  I totally know and had busted him about it the night before when he came sneaking into bed, smelling like a Waffle House at 3:30 in the morning, after he had a  “secret” smoke.   He smelled strongly enough of ashtray that he woke me up with it, and I fronted him out then.  Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and pretended to  be asleep.   The next morning he pretended like I had  dreamed the whole thing.  Yeah, right.  Busted again, Big Daddy. )  

We released Possible Speed Freak out into the wild where hopefully the neighborhood cats let him be and he was free to grow up and be fruitful and multiply and eat all the blasted spiders and West Nile-filled mosquitoes his little baby gecko belly can hold, bless his tiny baby gecko heart.

Geckos 1  Bathtub Drain 1 or 2.   Not quite sure on that one, but I like to err on the side of Hope.

Last night, however, the saga continued.

The Kid had just gone to bed. In the hallway lay piles of laundry sorted and ready to be washed.  Big Daddy and I were snuggled up on the couch watching some recorded Big Brother.  (Go Ian, you loveable kook!)

We were about 45 minutes in, and here comes The Kid with her hands clasped together.   She had been awakened by the growl of PsychoticKitty on the hunt and his pouncing through the laundry.  

Upon investigation, she found a tiny baby gecko, frozen in fear and missing a tail. The tail had dropped off in stress and PsychoticKitty was quite happily chasing  it.   The gecko, still frozen in place, wouldn’t move, and she was able to scoop him up  successfully.

Could it really be Frozen?  He did seem rather similar. Of course, all tiny baby geckos look the same, but he did stay frozen in place with that deer-in-the-headlight look.  Did Frozen somehow find his way out of the slick, sheer sides of the tub with his super-sticky, super-powered tiny baby gecko wonder toes and  then wander into the vast wasteland of dirty laundry?    

I hope so. I truly, truly hope so.

Geckos 2.  Bathtub Drain 0.

Maybe.