Stepford is under siege; as if to be subject to a succession of invasions. Upon arriving at Stepford after class last night, I entered the master bath only to almost step on a gecko. I only let out a startled little yelp. Clearly, I am becoming immune to creepy crawlies. Rather than go into my typical melt down, I immediately sprung into action to relocate the critter. However, the clacking of my shoes scared little gecko into hiding behind the toilet.
I went about my evening as I knew he would eventually mobilize. Closing down Stepford for the evening, I notice a scurry in the hallway. It is the gecko! I race to the bedroom to fetch my ingenious gecko relocation device, a tupperware container and piece of paper. All the while, my trusty sidekick is on my heels. With a fluid motion, the gecko is trapped under the container. Wiggling the paper under the container proved to be a bit of a challenge because the little gecko was mighty jumpy. I am positive my trusty sidekick's unwavering gaze on the gecko did not help to alleve it's stress level. Scooting the occupied gecko device across the living room floor, we finally made it to the back door where I did my best to secure the device and tossed the gecko out the door into the warm night air. I did not see where the gecko landed as the pesky motion controlled light in the back yard did not register the movement, but then again it rarely registers motion. I was victorious! Pasty - 1, gecko - 0.
Imagine my surprise this morning when I saw something scurry in the master bedroom closet. Yes, there were actually two geckos in Stepford. Only one remains. However, this evening, the sole survivor shall be joining his brother outside via the gecko relocation device. Slowly but surely, I am becoming a Texan.