This is another “appreciate your husband while you still have him” short article that one man told me inspires his wife to serve him coffee in bed every time she reads one. In my Widowhood book, I mentioned the bug squashing aspects of needing a husband, but this is something I hadn’t thought about.
I had plans to meet my son and grandson one morning, but when I opened my window blinds there was a nasty green lizard looking at me with beady little eyes. On the inside of the window! I got excited because I don’t like lizards. They jump. I called the apartment manager and told her to send a lizard catcher -- quickly! I was on lizard watching duty while I waited because if he ran off and hid, I would have to move out of the apartment until he was found. In the meantime, a friend called, and it is a testament to my bravery and courage that I did not squeal or shriek once while I carried on a conversation with him. Neither did I take my eyes off the lizard. If my friend had not been so many miles away, I’d have asked him to come catch the lizard.
When I got off the phone, I called the manager again to see what was delaying the lizard slayer. This was when I began thinking about doing to the lizard what I’ve done to snakes. I knew the apartment people might object to bullet holes in their window, but I figured the cost of replacing the glass would be worth the peace of mind knowing that creature wouldn’t be climbing under the covers with me. Then I saw a car driving up the street, so I left my vigil long enough to run out into the middle of the street and stop the car while yelling to the driver that I needed help. It didn’t occur to me at the time, but I guess he thought “help” as in the 911/heart attack kind of help because he didn’t even bother to pull into a parking spot. He just left his car in the middle of the street and ran after me into my apartment.
I guess you could say he was mildly surprised to find that I needed him to catch a lizard, but after a slightly awkward moment he agreed to catch it. Since his car was still blocking the street, and I was blocking the door and wasn’t going to let him leave until he took the lizard with him, we reached a mutually satisfactory agreement. He left with the lizard, and I left to meet Daniel and Hagen. Those of you who still have husbands, appreciate that you have your own personal lizard-catcher and that you do not have to stop strangers driving by.
By Elaine Marze