Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Weeping Wizards!

This morning at breakfast, while eating his oatmeal, Sutton became very excited when he remembered something that happened yesterday. (Now, first of all, we can all take the "yesterday" thing with a grain of salt, because in his three-year-old mind, everything happened "yesterday." Doesn't matter if it was last year, last week, or five minutes ago, to him it was "yesterday.") Apparently, I'm told, there was a "wiwwy widdle wizard" on the table in his bedroom that crawled under a piece of blue construction paper on which he had been drawing.

A small wizard in my house? How did this go unnoticed? Even a midget or dwarf wizard surely couldn't hide well enough that I wouldn't run across him while I was putting away the laundry. Had Sutton learned to read at some point without me knowing, and perhaps stumbled across the Harry Potter series? How else would he know about wizards if there hadn't really been one?

Then I had coffee and it all fell into place.

"There was a LIZARD in your room?"

He nodded, very solemnly. "A wiwwy widdle wizard, thiiiiis big." He demonstrated the size, using his pinky finger. "It cwawed under my blue twuck picture and Daddy picked it up and put it in the potty."

I have never seen a lizard in my house. (Nor do I want to. I would actually prefer to run across a wizard in my house, as I have no objection to being granted a few wishes now and again. I realize that wizards may not operate in the same manner as genies, but at the rate our gas bill runs, I figure if a wizard is hiding out in our house, the least he can do is kick in a few wishes for his part in the utilities.)

Sutton has a very active imagination, but I got the impression from his behavior that this might in fact have actually happened. A baby lizard doomed to death-by-potty is a stretch, as Blaker is one of those guys who carries spiders outside rather than squash them (like I do), but not implausible, I suppose. Bellamy did not see it happen (which still doesn't mean it didn't, as she's usually so caught up in pretending she's a Barbie Princess locked in the Crystal Palace and waiting on her prince to rescue and marry her that she doesn't know what the heck is going on around her--the girl seriously needs a lesson in feminism) so I called Blaker at work. No answer.

So was there really a rogue lizard loose in my house? I probably won't know until lunchtime when Blaker checks his voicemail and calls me back. I'll keep you posted.

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