Lizard, lizard show me your blanket. Lizard, lizard show me your blanket.
As a child watching green lizards crawl along a chain link fence, this little chant always brought the desired results – a bold display of a red pouch, or dewlap, on the lizard’s neck right beneath his chin (if what lizard’s have is considered a chin).
I do not recall when I first became frightened of lizards, I only know that I am afraid of them. This is an irrational fear, of course, and I understand that. People throughout my life have tried to assuage my fear of these repugnant creatures by holding them up to my face or letting them dangle by the teeth on their fingers. Supposedly these antics are to show me that lizards won’t hurt me. Perhaps they won‘t; unless they give me a heart attack.
Apart from my family, I think I’ve kept this lizard phobia pretty well under wraps. For example, I simply stood and watched, when in 7th grade Debra L. swooshed a lizard right off of the top of her beehive. A few of us girls were standing in the school yard after lunch when a classmate plopped a big green lizard on the top of her teased hair. The boys liked her because she was petite with big boobs and this was their way of getting her attention. Her cool reaction to that prank obviously left an impression on me.
That was a long time ago in my old southern home, where lizards are as common as dust in the house.
I have not seen green lizards in my backyard in Montana and that’s okay by me, but I have seen them at the pet store selling for 6.99 each.
You have to understand how unusual this is to me. I think of them as wild and free.
To me, paying six dollars and ninety nine cents for an ordinary lizard (it’s not like it’s an iguana or something) and keeping it in an aquarium is like buying mosquitoes and putting them in a jar.