This is My Life

I had to wait a day to get over this traumatizing experience before I could write about it.


Tuesday afternoon, I went to my parents house after work to pick up Pixie.

 {I go to my parent's because I work in my parent's town.  I live a good 30-40 minutes away.  This is good because I'm able to bring Pixie with me and drop her off by my parent's.  It definitely adds to my morning and afternoon commute, but she appreciates it.} 

I had beaten my mom there, so I let the girls outside and went back in to mess around.  Pixie came back in the house and just sat there looking at me with a very pleasant grin.  I looked down at her and was going to pet her, but then I realized she had a leaf on her back...or so I thought. When I went to grab it, it was Dun. DUn. DUN. a. dead. lizard.  I mean dead-dead.  Eyes missing, body frozen, nasty, disgusting thing just clinging to her back.  Sheer panic sunk in.  I was the only one there, so I had to get it.  I grabbed a paper towel, got the little sucker, and went outside.  It was a bit amusing at this point.  I couldn't put the thing down.  I just held it and freaked out.  I was squirming, and screaming, and dancing around.  I guess that's what a panic attack is, or my version. I was just so engrossed with the thought that I was holding this thing, that it was stuck to Pixie's back, and that she had been all over the house with it. 

At this point, I calmed a bit and paced a few minutes to gather my thoughts.  Then, it was attack time.  Time to attack Pixie with a bath and time to attack the house with a formal cleaning.  Poor thing didn't know what was going on.

I guess this is my life, full of dead-lizard-surprises. 

This is basically what Pixie looked like except it was Pixie, and it was a real lizard except he was dead.  I kid you not.  It was that big! Ok, ok, I'm exaggerating....a bit.