Thursday, August 05, 2010

okay, so...

The Kid has been saving all summer for a bearded dragon - you know, because with the dog and cat and snakes we don't have nearly enough mouths to feed and he manages to find someone online* who is selling one with a tank and all the accoutrements.

He makes all the arrangements, clears the space in his room, blah blah blah - then it turns out that the lizard is in Bakersfield - OMG FUN, a 3 hour drive! - but whatever, not like I have anything else going on, right?

So we're on our way out the door and we find this on the front porch


Are you fucking kidding me? Do you SEE the size of that fucking thing? Christ, I'm going to put a saddle on it and name it Saffron (just kidding, I think I'll name him Ringo... get it, because he's a Beetle? Whatever)

Anyway, I suggested that The Kid keep him as a pet instead, but he insisted upon the lizard, so we went out the other door and hit the road.

And we drove... and drove... and drove



And we stop for gas in some town, and while I'm fueling up, I see a guy in shorts and a pink t-shirt pulled up over his belly. I run around to the other side of the car so I can get my camera. "You're not taking a picture of that are you?" The Kid asks. Are you fucking kidding me?

I know it's a crappy picture and my car windows are unforgivably dirty, but you can make out the shorts, the PINK t-shirt and the vast expanse of skin separating them, right?


And we get there and exchange The Kid's money for the white trash girl's lizard, Ozzy***


Oh, and the people were going on and on about how they care about the lizard and want to make sure he's well taken care of (they're only getting rid of him because the daughter who owns him is joining the military), blah blah blah - the dad says that we seem to know what we're doing and that we don't look like we're just going to toss him on the barbecue.

We all laugh. "Of course not!" I say. "At least not until he's bigger."

Awkward silence.



And then we drove home. And that fucking bug is still next to my door. If someone would come and get it for me, I would gladly pay you $5.22 out of my paypal account.


(not really) funny story - on the drive, we go over this bridge that's over a dry river bed. There's 3 signs all along the bridge stating that "Jumping is Prohibited". Because... if someone came to the bridge, bummed enough about his or her life to contemplate taking a leap, that person is going to say "well, I'm unemployed, I have no family, I'm completely heartbroken because my significant other is sleeping with 7 other people/has a goat fetish/is considering becoming a Scientologist and I have nothing to live for, but... I guess I can't jump from here because it's illegal. Maybe I'll just go rent a movie..."






*I don't know where, I don't monitor his internet usage, he's 11, I figure he's old enough to make his own decisions***

** if you think Ozzy is a bad name, I won't tell you about their cat, Puta

***I'm so sure. Can you imagine?

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting, I take pictures