Lizard Scare

It was a quiet evening. Dinner was ready and derod was on his way home. The kids were entertaining themselves in the living room. The washing machine chimed; the children's clothes are done. I transferred them into a pail, ready to hang them on the rack outside. I thought I saw something slim and long lying at the bottom on the machine's drum, decided it couldn't be what I thought it was, and continued getting all the clothes out, including the unidentified object.

I wrapped my fingers around it and all at once, these thoughts shot through me: realization of what it was, confirming my initial suspicions; disgust (accompanied by goosebumps on my neck), that I actually laid my hands on its raw texture; horror and disbelief, that I'm actually holding it with my bare hands; fear, I can't explain this, but just fear.

I gave a scream worthy of a ride down Universal Studio Singapore's Battlestar Galactica (Cylon side), flung the object back into the machine and made a dash for the kitchen door. The drama came to an abrupt end when I saw my two children looking up at me in quiet composure. For a split second, I was both embarrassed and at a loss for words in explanation. It was the ultimate anti-climax. Then Gabe began his series of questions. What happened? Why did you scream? What's in the kitchen?

I was ambushed (for the umpteenth time, though the encounters differ) by our domestic reptilian co-habitant. What on earth was a lizard doing in my washing machine, and among my children's laundry?!

When derod got home, I told him this was one of those jobs around the house that men are responsible for, and waited for him in the living room. He wrapped his hand in a plastic bag and proceeded to get rid of the already-drowned lizard. Then he swaggered into the living room and began jeering at me. It was a fake; a rubber replica of my household nemesis! I could have died!

Then I recalled Gabe's grandaunt playing with him just a few days ago at his great-grandfather's place and told him to take the rubber thing home to play. She must have stuffed it into his pocket without any of us knowing and that was how it got into the laundry. Urgh!! I shook with disbelief and the realization of the truth. To think I almost went into cardiac arrest for the sake of a piece of rubber! The rest of the family shook for a different reason - holding their sides and stifling their laughter.