You are not so differentThe traditional family is fading away, a new report says.
Read more ...
Hot Toys November 2009Get ready for Christmas: Here are 10 Hot Toys You Should Know About!
Read more ...
So here’s something else about me: I live in the swamps.
Or the jungle.
Or whatever you call a place that’s really hot and humid and has lots of creepy crawly animals, big and small, hanging around. For real: After my neighborhood, you will pass just one more neighborhood and then…The Everglades.
So I’m not kidding when I tell people I live in the Swamp. Definitely a place that was meant more for the non-human creatures than us humans.
Once you live here for a while, you (in theory) get used to stuff you may not have experienced in the place you came from. I grew up in Maryland – we didn’t really have to deal with lizards or gators or armadillos or fire ants or hurricanes.
Between the creatures and the forces of nature, there is never a dull moment around here.
One of the things that, while small and harmless, really freaked me out the first few years I lived here (and, truth be told, still does) was the little lizard. These guys scurry right into a door the second you opened it to the outside. They are fast and blend right into whatever color they are scurrying across.
I have been told how good and righteous they are because they eat all of the flies and mosquitoes but even after all these years, they are still just weird and creepy and crawly. They get into the house and disappear until you’re about to fall asleep or get into the shower and then HELLO! there one is.
But while they freaked me out all these years, I never had to deal with the possible homicide and subsequent removal of these little guys.
Because I had a man around the house.
I had a husband.
A husband who wasn’t scared (at least not visibly) of the creatures.
A husband with big shoes to slam the creatures (please don’t refer me to PETA).
A dude who had at one time promised a Rabbi he would love and honor me and remove all lizards any time I asked.
Anyway…all was well and good until the other day when the tiniest of tiny lizards was scurrying around in the kitchen. I would have left well enough (meaning, the lizard) alone, but I also happen to have a crazy dog who eats everything on the ground whether it is moving or not, so I had to do something.
Of course, the June Cleaver in me (there is a tiny smidgen of her somewhere — only when it’s convenient and works in my favor) looked right at the only male who still resides in my home – my almost 12-year-old son.
“[completely indistinguishable grunting noises]”
“Whaaaaaaaat Mommmmm,” as if I am the most annoying human on the planet and he is in the middle of the most important and interesting activity on the planet.
“Ummm, remember how we discussed that you are kind of the man of the house now?”
“Well I am going to need some help in that area right about NOW.”
“[Another indistinguishable super-annoyed-I-wish-anyone-but-you-were-my-Mom-in-this-moment-noise]”
“Please bring your big-a** shoe and please get this little guy before he escapes of Ebony [the dog] eats it. PUH-LEEEEEEESE….”
[Drags his too-cool self off the couch, after pausing his important Xbox game, and lumbers over to the scene.]
Finally, he half-swatted the creature and yet it still scurried away.
As in, mission not accomplished.
Before I could lament my grown-male-less existence (which actually ain’t so bad, believe you me), the creature made another appearance.
This time, though, I told my male kid to get out of the way. Of course, he gladly picked up the gaming control again and forgot all about the incident.
Then I literally took matters into my own hands.
I will show this tiny reptile who is boss, I thought.
I took the trash can and placed it squarely and firmly right on top of the tiny little reptile guy.
No way he can survive that, right?
That’ll show him.
That was Tuesday.
Today is Thursday.
The trash can is still in the middle of the kitchen floor, supposedly on top of a lizard whose presence I could not handle.
Yea, I haven’t moved it…I am too scared.
Who needs a man when you have SuperMom?!
More Lifecasts: Allison Nazarian | Shannon Ball | Letters To A Cheating Spouse
About the Author: Allison Nazarian is an entrepreneur, an author, a Single Mom, a doer and a dreamer. Allison’s is an open, truthful and usually quite hilarious voice both in her professional and personal worlds (which collide constantly). Professionally, Allison is a marketing and writing coach and consultant. On the personal front, Allison, who is newly single (more on that in her Lifecast!), has also recently discovered (or remembered) that she is a lot of fun. Allison, who holds a B.A. from the University of Pennsylvania and an M.S. from Columbia University’s School of Journalism, has been featured in the Wall Street Journal, INC Magazine, Fortune Small Business and WomenEntrepreneur.com. You can connect with Allison professionally at AllisonNazarianUnlimited.com, through her blog at AllisonNazarian.com or on twitter with the user name @AllisonNazarian