hahahaha

Lizard   Birth
If you have raised kids (or been one),   and gone through
 the pet syndrome, including toilet flush   burials for dead
 goldfish, the story below will have you   laughing out
 LOUD!
 
Overview:   I had to take my son’s lizard to the vet.
 
   Here’s what happened:
 
Just after dinner one   night, my son came up to tell me
 there was "something wrong"  with one of the two
 lizards he holds prisoner in his   room.
 
"He’s just lying there looking sick,"  he told me. "I’m serious, Dad. Can you help?"
   
I put my best lizard-healer expression on my face   and
 followed him into his bedroom. One of the little   lizards
 was indeed lying on his back, looking stressed.   I
immediately knew what to do.
   
"Honey," I called, "come look at the lizard!"
 
"Oh, my gosh!" my wife exclaimed. "She’s   having
 babies  "What?" my   son demanded. "But their names are
 Bert and Ernie,   Mom!"
 
I was equally outraged.

 "Hey, how can that be? I thought we said we   didn’t
 want them to reproduce," I said accusingly to my   wife.
 
"Well, what do you want me to do, post   a sign in their
 cage?" she inquired (I think she actually said   this
 sarcastically!)
 
"No, but   you were supposed to get two boys!" I
 reminded her, (in my   most loving, calm, sweet
 voice, while gritting my   teeth).

"Yeah, Bert and Ernie!" my son   agreed.

 "Well, it’s just a little hard to   tell on some guys, you
know," she informed me (Again with the   sarcasm!).
 
By now the rest of the family had   gathered to see
 what was going on. I shrugged, deciding to   make
the best of it.
 
"Kids,   this is going to be a wondrous experience,"
I announced.   "We’re about to witness the miracle of birth."
   
"Oh, gross!" they shrieked
 
   "Well, isn’t THAT just great? What are we going to do
 with a   litter of tiny little lizard babies?" my wife wanted
to   know.
 We peered at the patient. After much   struggling, what
 looked like a tiny foot would appear briefly,   vanishing
 a scant second later.
   
"We don’t appear to be making much progress,"  I
 noted.
 
"It’s breech," my   wife whispered, horrified.
 
"Do something,   Dad!" my son urged "Okay, okay."  Squeamishly, I reached in and grabbed
 the foot when it next   appeared, giving it a gentle tug.
 It disappeared. I tried   several more times with the
 same results.
   
"Should I call 911?" my eldest daughter wanted to   know.
 
"Maybe they could talk us through the   trauma." (You
 see a pattern here with the females in my   house?)
 
"Let’s get Ernie to the vet," I said   grimly. We drove to
 the vet with my son holding the cage in   his lap.

 "Breathe, Ernie, breathe," he   urged.

 "I don’t think lizards do Lamaze," his   mother noted to
him. (Women can be so cruel to their own   young. I
 mean what she does to me is one thing, but this   boy
 is of her womb, for G~d’s sake.).
   
The vet took Ernie back to the examining room   and
looked him over carefully.

 "What do you think, Doc, a C-section?"  I suggested
scientifically.
 
   "Oh, very interesting," he murmured. "Mr. and Mrs.
 Cameron,   may I speak to you privately for a moment?"
 I   gulped, nodding for my son to step outside.
 
   "Is Ernie going to be okay?" my wife asked.
 
   "Oh, perfectly," the vet assured us. "This lizard is not
in   labor. In fact, that isn’t EVER going to happen. .
Ernie is a   boy. You see, Ernie is a young male. And
 occasionally, as they   come into maturity, like most
 male species, they um . . um . .   . masturbate. Just
 the way he did, lying on his back." He   blushed,
 glancing at my wife.
 
   We were silent, absorbing this.

 "So, Ernie’s   just just . . . excited," my wife offered.
   "Exactly," the vet replied , relieved that we understood.
   
More silence. Then my vicious, cruel wife started   to
 giggle. And giggle. And then even laugh   loudly.

"What’s so funny?" I demanded,   knowing, but not
believing that the woman I married would   commit
 the upcoming affront to my flawless   manliness.
 
Tears were now running down her   face. "It’s just that . I’m picturing you pulling on its . .   . its. . . teeny little "
 She gasped for more air to bellow in   laughter once
more.

 "That’s   enough," I warned. We thanked the vet and
 hurriedly bundled   the lizard and our son back into
the car.. He was glad   everything was going to be okay.
 
"I know   Ernie’s really thankful for what you did, Dad,"
 he told   me.

 "Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed,   collapsing
with laughter.
 
Two   lizards: $140.
 
One cage: $50.
  
Trip to the vet: $30.
 Memory   of your husband pulling on a lizard’s winkie:
   Priceless!

 Moral of the story: Pay attention   in biology class.

Lizards lay   eggs!