oh my lord .. holy mother of England, did i ever mention the skinks? They look okay when they are up high, but then .. all of the sudden they run and MAN can they run!! They freak me the hell out, AND, much to my delight, lastnight i discovered that behind my husbands tough macho exterior, they also freak HIM the hell out!!
So i'm in the kitchen doing whatever it is that we women always seem to be doing in a kitchen, possibly preparing a meal for someone, possibly washing someones dishes .. maybe pouring someone else a drink or perhaps some other form of slave labour that we engage in as Mothers and Wifes, but perhaps that is its very own blog .. the point here was that i was in the kitchen and i noticed Gregg walking back into the front door after his smoke .. 2 seconds after i noticed him walking back in i couldn't help but notice the shriek that he let off .. imagine for a second if you will, a high school girl of say, 14, maybe 15? She's trying to impress a random, pimpley kid who she's madly in love with and she gives off that squeely, shrieky, loud screechy kinda noise that they do .. well, THAT .. THAT was gregg, that was my knight in shining armour (also known as my English donkey in tin foil) .. back to the point, it appears that a skink had followed him inside. Now, i don't want to completely remove his manlyhood, so perhaps i could exagerate and say that the skink was actually a really large spider, a penis eating spider. But we all know that's not true .. it was a skink, a teeny, tiny skink!! ..
We had a brief meeting .. im talking, all of about 5 seconds where we discussed how the hell we would get this thing back outside and far, far away from my dining room where it was currently running about doing circles under my dining chairs. Gregg chased it for a bit, trying to put a glass over it .. it was all quite amusing to watch from my place on top of the kitchen bench where my feet were well and truly raised from the floor just incase the thing launched itself at me and tried to eat me alive. Coz, they do that you know! They do!!
Eventually Gregg asked for the dustpan and brush, and i would gladly have helped him .. but i was safer on top of that bench and i wasn't getting down! A few quick laps around the kitchen table and Gregg had secured (safely) one little skink which was then placed back outside with it's friends. I climbed off the bench, Gregg had a smoke to calm his nerves and we all lived happily ever after, both deciding that we would never again speak of the nightmare where a skink entered our house and put us at risk of heart attacks ..
Oops, did i just blog that all out loud?
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