We’ve just moved. We closed on a house last weekend, and we moved all our stuff over this weekend. It’s a local move, but it’s a move from a two-bedroom flat to a three-bedroom house, so we’re very happy with it.
Today, in addition to Moving Day, was also Girl’s third birthday.
And it was the first match of the new season for Boy’s soccer team. In fact, the movers were still bringing stuff into our house when it was time to leave for the match, so Lisa took him on her own while Girl and I hung out at the house. After the movers finished and left, it was just the two of us. She was in the basement watching TV while I was doing a little unpacking on one of the upper levels.
She came running up to me. “There’s an alligator downstairs! Dad, there’s an alligator downstairs!”
Of course my immediate assumption was that she was playing pretend, but I gave her a second glance when I realised how genuinely frightened she looked. “Can you show me where the alligator is?” I asked.
She looked at me like I was a moron. “No.”
So I headed down to the basement. And stopped at the top of the stairs, when I saw a little guy who looked very much like this on the bottom step. Her alligator.
I went to get a couple of cups to trap and release the thing, but it had vanished by the time I got back–presumably into the AC vent that’s right next to where it was scurrying around. So I told Girl it had gone, but she wouldn’t return to the basement without me holding her hand. My luck, she’ll be the one who finds it again in three days.
I’d actually seen one of these lizards (very possibly the same one) crawling across our front doorstep last night, and I took note of it because I’ve lived on the banks of the Potomac River for eight years now, and this was the first time I’ve seen a lizard like that around here. Like a little, creepy-crawly piece of Florida running around my yard.