I have a fear of reptiles but I don’t think that’s any big deal, I’m sure there’s lots of us afraid of those disgusting looking creatures.
But, maybe everyone who’s afraid doesn’t really know why they’re afraid.
I do.
It was my mom, it’s her fault, she’s the source, she’s why I’m so afraid.
Now, I’m not (ordinarily) a blamer, I know blame’s a crippler but, well…… it IS what it is and my mother gave me that fear, got it right smack from her.

As far back as my memory goes, when a reptile appeared on the TV, the scene in our living was always the same. A loud, terrifying, piercing scream and then her plea, “get it off, PLEASE get it off.”
She’d close her eyes, wave her hands and continue to beg me to turn the channel, get it off.
Me, the little-girl-me, had to change the channel….every time!
This was BC (before clickers) so I had to walk up close to the slimy lookin’ slithering gross things to turn the channel. I almost had to touch them! I was pee-my-pants scared myself but, for my screaming mom, I did it.

I did reptile channel changin’ throughout my entire childhood.
Eventually I stopped watching TV with my mom, but I didn’t get through it unscathed, it left me scarred with reptile trauma syndrome.

Fast forward and now I’m the mom.
I didn’t want my girls to feel such fear about the disgusting things. I mean, I didn’t want them to bring snakes home in jars or anything but I just didn’t want them to feel terrified, so I had to learn to change my expression and comments of fear and fake it like reptiles were no big deal.
I’m not afraid of frogs and toads, I know they’re reptiles, I don’t wanna hold them but I’m not afraid. Once I even tried telling myself that frogs and toads are nothing more than folded up lizards without a long tail…that didn’t work. And snakes? Well, snakes make me shiver and shake, I don’t even like pushing the keys on this machine that spell out SNAKE!

I think I did pretty good with my girls. They may not like snakes or, maybe they do, I don’t know…we don’t talk snakes but I don’t think they’re terrified.
So I give myself an “A”, OK, maybe “B” maybe one of them is squeamish about it. Nope, thinking it over,I’m takin’ the “A”.

My grandson hunted lizards in our back yard when he was a little boy. Now, I could deal with the rolly-polly bugs he collected in a bucket and it was OK if every once in a while he got a big goldfish in a net from our backyard pond but a bucket with a lizard and …..I’m gone, inside the house, shut the door!
“Momsmom, ya gotta make friends with lizards” he’d tell me over and over.
That little boy is an adult now and he still thinks the right thing to do is to make friends with lizards! Right…..when he eats a plate of vegetables, I’ll make friends with a lizard. One, just one lizard. Not ALL lizards!

I’m from back east, a suburb of a rather big city. You don’t see lizards on the sidewalks or lawns or in gardens. Actually, you just don’t see lizards, anywhere, they aren’t there.

When my Darling Man and I moved into our first home together (in California), I took time off from work to organize and arrange our kitchen.

It was a Friday afternoon, the beginning of Spring. I had the music goin’, poured a glass of wine and I was feelin’ awake in a real good dream. It was kinda like I was playin’ house; placing every glass, every plate, every pot……in our house, OUR HOUSE…..my high-school-boyfriend-husband and me, that house!

I stopped for a moment and glanced across the kitchen and the dining room expecting to look out at the backyard from the patio door, but my eyeballs didn’t get that far, they locked-on to the patio door. The only coping mechanism I was able to come up with was to yell for somebody to “change the channel” but there was nobody there, just me.
It was huge, I mean really huge. It looked like maybe a miniature alligator just there, kinda stuck on my patio screen; it’s tail was as long as my transparent purple, plastic, grade-school ruler! The glass door was open so there it was, right there, right smack there. For a few moments I was suspended in time in the kitchen. I couldn’t move and neither could my eyes. I didn’t know if it was on my side of the screen or hanging on from the outside. I could only see 4 extended gross, legs, a head and a tail. I couldn’t tell if I was looking at it’s belly or it’s back but I was lookin’ at something BIG; from its sick, ugly head to it’s disgusting tail, BIG!
My brain clicked in, do NOT take my eyes off of it, get a weapon, get off the floor. The broom would be my weapon, I could see it in my peripheral vision, slowly I reached for it, real slowly….I didn’t want to alarm the screen monster. If it was on the inside and I scared it and it jumped off the screen and ran away somewhere inside the house, then what? Who can sleep in a house with a loose lizard?
The dustpan was attached to the broom so I had 2 weapons of protection. I jumped up on the kitchen counter…yes I did, I jumped straight up like a cat and I never took my eyes off the thing.

The phone was there, right there connected to the wall and it was working.

Now, this next part is wrong. I know it’s wrong, horrible wrong but well, there was a huge monster on my screen. My heart was pounding so hard and fast and I wasn’t breathing too good. I was fixated on the screen and frozen in fear.

It was me, a broom, a dustpan, a phone and a monster on my screen. I couldn’t even get to my wine!

I reached for the phone without looking and dialed 911. I did it by feel, couldn’t look at the numbers, it might jump right into my house at the very moment I moved my eyes from it.
Yep…..911.
I’m well aware that 911 is for emergencies. But, I hear it said that our perception is our reality and my perception was this WAS an emergency and that was my reality at that moment.

A 911 Emergency person answered my call…a very calm, nice sounding woman asked first, “are you in danger?”

“This is not life threatening but I need someone to talk to.”

“What’s the problem mam?”

“Well, I’m from a city back easy where I think the only place you could find a lizard would be in the zoo and, well…there’s one on my patio door, and I’m scared….REALLY scared.”

I was crying and IF she was trained like I hoped she was…she knew I was in big time distress.

She was good.

“Where are you mam?”

“I’m sitting up on the kitchen counter.”

“Lizards won’t hurt you mam.”

“Right.”

“Lizards are a sign of good luck, mam”

“Right.”

“Are you home alone, mam”

“Yes. My husband will be home in 3 hours. THREE HOURS?! I can’t do this for 3 hours.”

“What are you doing, mam?”

“I’m sitting up on my kitchen counter with a broom, a dustpan and a telephone. I’m watching it.”

“What are you watching it do, mam?”

“Hang on to my screen.”

One moment mam, I have an emergency call………

“Hello mam? Are you still there?”

“Yes I’m here, I can’t move, not till 5 p.m. 3 hours I have to sit here.”

“Can you call a neighbor, mam?”

“No, I don’t know my neighbors, I just moved here.”

“How about family members, do you have a family member you can call, mam?”

“Nobody. They’re all at work.”

“Just remember mam, they won’t hurt you.”

“That’s not workin’”

For the next hour, I spoke back and forth with my 911 friend, yes friend.
She put me on hold a few times, even had to disconnect once but…..she called me back. Yes she did, she called me right back.

I did lizard patrol the rest of the afternoon. I stayed up on the counter, staring at a lizard.

When my darling man finally walked through the front door a little after 5:00, I fell apart. I couldn’t look at him (still lizard watching) but I sobbed.
The first thing he saw was me up on a kitchen counter with a terrified look on my face. He couldn’t see what I was looking at in such fear. He stood frozen for a second. He later told me he thought someone was there holding a gun at me.

When he heard “lizard” and “on the screen”, he got the message and walked boldly to the screen door like a hero. There he ascertained the lizard was for sure on the outside of the screen. He flicked at the lizard, hit his hand against the screen and it fell off on to the step.
I was ready with my broom (still up on the counter).
Oh God, next he wanted to open the screen door.
He swore it wouldn’t get inside. I didn’t believe him but I gave in.
He opened the screen door and shut it quickly. He picked that Gila Monster looking thing up by the tail, walked over to the back fence and gave it a flying trip over the fence and out to the field.

I later learned that particular type of disgusting lizard is called an Alligator Lizard, and I know why!
I never saw it again but I never stopped watching for it, waiting for it to sneak back into my yard, army crawl up the screen and terrify me one more time.

I’m aware that all 911 calls are recorded and I’m guessing that one was shared.

CRAP!!!!!