The juvenile Hemidactylus frenatus
Er, I meant, the juvenile House Gecko.
Too friggin’ cool for school anecdote:
The son (Thing 1) and I were outside a little while ago. Breeze was up. Checked the mail. Chased an adult lizard around without success in capture but much success in, well, that little thing called Fun.
Then I hear, “Oh, Daddy, look! I caught a baby lizard!”
No, he didn’t. It is, by all estimations and photo searches along and amid teh intarwebs, a common House Gecko. Waaaaaaaay down South. We built a tiny vivarium for it out of a clean cream cheese cup with airholes in the lid and some sand, dirt, grass, and crumbled-up pine bark inside. I’m going to pluck a tiny wasp nest and put in there so that the lil sucker can feast upon the emerging, stinging buggers. A bigger vivarium in the offing as soon as posting is done, for those concerned about, well, cramped space for a gecko.
A freakin’ gecko.
May not mean much to you, but, hey, we’re just a bunch o’ simple country folk down here. And it’s not everyday you see a gecko outside the odd GEICO commercial.
And while were on the tangential GEICO subject--yes, in the mail was the monthly auto insurance bill from, you guessed it, GEICO. Hmmmmmmmmm. Coincidence or shameless capitalistic/marketing/reptoid conspiracy?
You decide.
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selfavowedgeek) wrote,
hyper
