The Story of the Dead Lizard

I will be honest... I don't always believe everything my children say. Ages 3 and 5 are two stages that create the most vivid,  colorful, fantastic tall-tales ever heard in the history of the world. I love their creative minds that are so full of fanciful ideas, I envy how different their perspectives are regarding the world and environment around them and wish I could wear the same lenses they use to view people, places, events, and nature.

Owen is particularly notorious for making up some really wild stories...like there is a snake in the backyard that slithered into a hole, or there were black widows in his bed, or some kids at school got bit by a dog that climbed over the fence. Each of these were just stories and although I love that he uses his imagination, sometimes I have to ask whether what he is saying is untrue.

Given his tendancy to exaggerate, it was no surprise that when he mentioned to me that he had killed a lizard that was attempting to bite his younger brother, I completely dismissed him. We were over at my grandparents' house visiting - my aunt, my mom and I were chatting in the kitchen. Owen quietly walked up beside me and told me about this so-called killer lizard and I told him that if he really killed a lizard in the backyard he needed to bring it in the house and show me. I figured since he didn't actually kill a lizard that he would go back outside and play with Luke. So off he goes through the screen slider and I begin to engage back into the conversation with my aunt and mom. As we were chatting Owen walks back into the house and gently places the dead lizard beside my aunt on the kitchen counter. The extra added bonus was that he also brought in its tail. You know, the one that he somehow had chopped off, the tail that was now wriggling frenetically back and forth. My poor aunt screamed and I did what most moms of boys do, Iaughed hysterically, grabbed a paper towel, picked up the dead lizard carcass and writhing tail and threw it away in the trash can.

Owen simply replied...I told you mom. Yes, you did and mama will believe you from now on!

This story will forever be dedicated to my Aunt Sylvia -- sorry for the little afternoon excitement!