My brother sent me this and I felt I had no choice but to post it here:
If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome
>> including toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish, sniff
>> 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 statement 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 diagnosed after a minute. "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 accused my wife.
>>
>> "Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she
>> inquired. (I actually think she 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 together).
>> "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, you think?)
>>
>> 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. (I really do think
>> she was being snotty here, too, don't you?)
>>
>> 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 gingerly 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 God's sake.)
>>
>> The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little
>> animal through a magnifying glass.
>> "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. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr.
>> Cameron."
>> 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 viscous, 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 veterinarian 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've done, Dad," he told me.
>>
>> "Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
>>
>> 2 - lizards - $140... 1 - Cage - $50...
>> Trip to the Vet - $30...
>> Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's wacker .....Priceless
>
yeah baby
you're a lizzard wacker
If you have raised kids (or been one), and gone through the pet syndrome
>> including toilet-flush burials for dead goldfish, sniff
>> 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 statement 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 diagnosed after a minute. "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 accused my wife.
>>
>> "Well, what do you want me to do, post a sign in their cage?" she
>> inquired. (I actually think she 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 together).
>> "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, you think?)
>>
>> 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. (I really do think
>> she was being snotty here, too, don't you?)
>>
>> 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 gingerly 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 God's sake.)
>>
>> The vet took Ernie back to the examining room and peered at the little
>> animal through a magnifying glass.
>> "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. "Well, you know what I'm saying, Mr.
>> Cameron."
>> 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 viscous, 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 veterinarian 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've done, Dad," he told me.
>>
>> "Oh, you have NO idea," my wife agreed, collapsing with laughter.
>>
>> 2 - lizards - $140... 1 - Cage - $50...
>> Trip to the Vet - $30...
>> Memory of your husband pulling on a lizard's wacker .....Priceless
>
yeah baby
you're a lizzard wacker
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