The last time I ever shared my home with a gecko was in third grade. I really wanted a cat or a dog but couldn't have either as various family members were allergic to them. Boo. But then I discovered the cutest little lizard that ever slithered around this earth: the gecko. And I could actually have one because these guys lived in cages and didn't have any hair! So, to make it even cooler, I got three.
Never would it occur to me that one day I'd have an abundnace of geckoes in my home, even though I didn't ask for them. They're the silent roommates that everyone wishes they had and they (usually) leave no traces of their existence behind (ahem, NUMBER TWO.) They especially like the shower room and the corners of all our ceilings. I've found myself talking to them on more than one occasion while I'm gettin' spruced up, and they're normally pretty good listeners...until they run away. I guess my stories bore them.
Normally, they don't take me by surprise. But just now, as I was rummaging through the messy clothes pile in my wardrobe, I jumped back rather quickly. One little guy was sticking his head out from under my gray tank top and looked like a deer caught in headlights. I didn't want to scare him, but I didn't want him doing his business on my personal stuff. So I reached for my shirt, and he booked it.
Hopefully he doesn't drop dead of a heart attack in the bathroom. Last thing I want is to shower with a dead lizard who used to be quite the confidant...