I’m waging one right now. Well, okay, this one doesn’t include bloodshed, death or mayhem and the recipient of my angry thoughts remains blithely clueless. Nevertheless, this still is war.
“Did you hear me, Mr. Lizard? Hah! Have the temerity to enter my home, do you?”
Who am I kidding? That lizard on my wall is the king of this castle right now – all without uttering a single word. The unparalleled power of an Aussie reptile! Sigh!
Even as I type with false bravado on my keyboard, I’m doing my unhappy best to keep my unwelcome guest in my field of vision. One swish of his tail, an atmosphere-testing swipe of his tongue and I’m out of here… till I can amass enough courage to inch back in, grab my laptop and run back out again, of course.
I’m sure once I’ve urged him to leave, I’ll be sitting down with my cup of warm tea – and, oh, I do want my tea but what if I make a move and he does too? – and philosophizing about the equality of God’s creatures, finding parallels between the current inhospitable situation at home and the political refugee situation around the world, and such. But that isn’t going to happen yet. Right now, I just want…EEK! He moved!
Sssh! Type softly and don’t distract him. He’s turning back around. I’ve left the door open for him to find his way back out. Can lizards remember stuff? How about simple things like – I got into the nice lady’s house this way. I’ll stop scaring her and leave the same way?
He’s looking at me! He is, I tell you! Uhhh… was that a nod of thanks? I’ll take it if it includes a good bye as well.
Okay, signing out now. I’ll go and make sure he decides to leave the premises, or start looking for new ones myself. 😦