One of the benefits of living in a multi-generational family is the exposure to new experiences. Last month for my cousin's 12th birthday, I enjoyed the giant water slide that was temporarily installed in the backyard. This week I learned how to feed a gecko.
My uncle and the boys left town this week, leaving me queen of the house. In addition to sitting on the couch with remote in one hand and bon bons in the other, I'm tasked at keeping the gecko alive.
Having lived in the Everglades for three years, I had a perception of what a gecko is. To my surprise, what's living in my cousin's room does not match my image. What's living up there is a little bigger than a baby's foot - short and squatty. It has shiny, dark eyes like swelled, black beans and wears a little smile. My uncle warned me that this little beast is mean, it bites.
The little beast eats crickets. This morning, I attempted to corral four crickets from their tank into a plastic cup. As you can imagine, after I got one in the cup, another would jump out. Maybe that's their distraction method - to cause chaos - maybe they know that if they disperse in multiple directions, there is a better chance at least one of them will survive.
Some how, I managed to capture three and decided the gecko (who is just called "Gecko.") would start a diet today. Up the stairs and into the bedroom, I then had to figure out how to remove the lid. I attempted to keep the crickets at bay in their cup while I fidgeted with the lid, but two escaped. They threw on camouflage to blend in with the desk and carpeting. I had to find these crickets! All I imagined was not being able to sleep tonight because the song of three angry crickets would keep me awake.
I pushed the magic button on the gecko's house and the top slid off. I successfully tossed in the day's sacrifice and secured the lid. I watched the crickets adjust to their new home and went to tend to those crickets left behind. To keep them comfortable and alive, I soak their sponge in water every other day. Interestingly, they suck on it. Now that's quite an image.
My uncle and the boys left town this week, leaving me queen of the house. In addition to sitting on the couch with remote in one hand and bon bons in the other, I'm tasked at keeping the gecko alive.
Having lived in the Everglades for three years, I had a perception of what a gecko is. To my surprise, what's living in my cousin's room does not match my image. What's living up there is a little bigger than a baby's foot - short and squatty. It has shiny, dark eyes like swelled, black beans and wears a little smile. My uncle warned me that this little beast is mean, it bites.
The little beast eats crickets. This morning, I attempted to corral four crickets from their tank into a plastic cup. As you can imagine, after I got one in the cup, another would jump out. Maybe that's their distraction method - to cause chaos - maybe they know that if they disperse in multiple directions, there is a better chance at least one of them will survive.
Some how, I managed to capture three and decided the gecko (who is just called "Gecko.") would start a diet today. Up the stairs and into the bedroom, I then had to figure out how to remove the lid. I attempted to keep the crickets at bay in their cup while I fidgeted with the lid, but two escaped. They threw on camouflage to blend in with the desk and carpeting. I had to find these crickets! All I imagined was not being able to sleep tonight because the song of three angry crickets would keep me awake.
I pushed the magic button on the gecko's house and the top slid off. I successfully tossed in the day's sacrifice and secured the lid. I watched the crickets adjust to their new home and went to tend to those crickets left behind. To keep them comfortable and alive, I soak their sponge in water every other day. Interestingly, they suck on it. Now that's quite an image.
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