One of the conditions of my son getting to have a pet lizard (you can read about that whole debacle here if you have not already) was that he had to feed it.
Lizards eat crickets. And mealworms. Specifically, they like their prey alive and wriggling. If it ain’t fresh, that lizard ain’t eating it. With the amount I have now invested in this dad-gum lizard, it sure as hell better live a good long time.
I hate crickets. Especially those big, black, crunchy ones that can fly at your head or hop onto your leg without warning. Shudder.
So, this mamma doesn’t touch live crickets. Or mealworms.
The problem with having a four year old boy feed live crickets to a lizard?
Each night, at least one out of the three crickets intended for the lizard actually end up tasting freedom again in my living room rather than suffering an early demise as a tasty reptile hors d’ oeuvre.
There are dozens of them roaming my house!!!
I hear them at night, chirping happily. They must be breeding under the couch, behind the curtains, in all of the dark, hidden recesses of this old creaky house.
When they are sufficient in number, I have no doubt they are coming for us…
If this blog ever goes silent, you know why.