Fun story of the day, because apparently, I like communicating my awkward moments. The set-up: about a week ago, I noticed a tiny, tiny gecko baby by the side of the oven. I rescue things often and wanted to do so right then and there, but alas, he scurried down the side of the stove. I feared for him! Stoves are hot, you guys. Didn't know if you knew...
|Scene of the incident -- at least part one.|
I jumped into action, slo-mo.
It was cinematic.
I slowly pushed the knife block against one side of the stove so that the gap was covered. The other side got a pair of tongs. I had trivets and oil containers for him to use as a hiding place, so I slowly inched him to a bright orange funnel.
Well, that didn't work. He doesn't like orange.
He jumped on my leg! I squeaked a little and then applied a calming technique to keep him where he was, but he freaked and went straight for my crotch.
So, I trap him there with both hands and start hobbling toward the back door. I know I probably look like a hunched old woman who needs to potty. Can you picture it? What a weirdo.
Yes, I make it outside, and that's when junior decides to jump on my arm and make a beeline for my armpit.
Disaster. Who is this perverted gecko?!
|Not a gecko, but a cute pic, nonetheless.|