Tag Archives: laundry bag


peculiar thing I found this morning. After emptying the contents of Son’s laundry bag into the washer, I went to his bedroom to hang it back inside his closet. I looked at his bed, it wasn’t made. He never makes his bed, guessing his mother will see to it–unable to let her hands rest a bit. I’m irked that he has left all the good habits I instilled in him as a teenager.

Much to my horror I could see a wee lizard sharing his bed. My heart started thumping loudly in my ears. Son must have kept it warm throughout the night with his body heat, keeping it nice and cozy.

Now what to do?

I certainly didn’t want to pick it, but the thing was Son wasn’t at home, and for the next three to four hours I didn’t expect him to be back home. I couldn’t stay by the side of bed, keeping a watch on it till Son’s return. I couldn’t soil the sheet by thumping it with a slipper. There was nothing left but to be brave, and remove it by myself.

I ran to my bathroom to get a glove on my hand, praying all the while it won’t do the disappearing act on me. I grabbed a paper towel, and in one go swooped on the icky thingy, and after dropping him in the bowl, I flushed him away. 

Finally my heartbeat turned normal.



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