Lizard in an office

After barely graduating from high school, her son apparently had bribed enough of his college professors that the local university had no choice but to put him on the honor roll. The mother was so proud (not to mention shocked) that she asked us to print a writeup on his "accomplishment." She submitted the geekiest high school photo she could find to inform the entire community that her son wasn't the dunce cap-wearing bonehead they thought he was. We did our civic duty and printed the picture with a cutline lauding the student's questionable achievement. She had now returned to retrieve her son's photo.

She said, as I was searching for the picture, that it was the only one she had. I would have felt better had she told me she possessed a million copies as lone prints have a tendency to disappear inexplicably. I said a silent prayer of thanks when I discovered we hadn't managed to lose the photo. I handed it back to the proud mom. She thanked me again for publishing the photo and turned to exit the office.

That's when we saw it. A vicious lizard. It was grey with white markings and had a blue tail that looked as if the creature had been captured, it's tail wrapped in painter's tape and then set free. We were frozen in our tracks. Despite being only 4 inches long, I was certain if the reptile was allowed to get anywhere near us, it would swallow us whole.

We nervously devised a plan of action. Even though our first urge was to beat the thing senseless, we decided if we could somehow guide it out the door, that would be much more humane and a lot less messy. I grabbed a newspaper with the intention of using it to gently nudge the animal outside.

The lizard had other ideas.

When I leaned down and pointed the paper in the general vicinity of the reptile, it scurried off in the direction opposite of the door, seeking shelter in an empty cubbyhole of a bin where back issues are stored. I screamed like a scared kindergartner as it sprinted past me. Once the Proud Mom was able to coax me down from the ceiling fan, we came up with Plan B.

Plan B consisted of the Proud Mom repeatedly kicking the bin in an effort to freighten the lizard back into the great wide open. It wasn't working. I asked if she would rather use a broom. She declined. After several frustrating and agonizing moments trying to scare the lizard to freedom, the mild-mannered suburban mom decided she'd finally had enough.

"I'm tired of this motherfucking lizard in this motherfucking office!" she yelled. And with the authority of a drill sargent, she barked, "Get me that broom!"

This was no time for disobedience. I ran to the break room, grabbed the broom, then hurried back and deposited it in the Proud Mom's hands. She then proceeded to beat the floor with the broom while screaming at the lizard, "Go, lizard! Leave! Get out of here!" The startled lizard ran out of his protective hole. And with each swat of the broom against the floor, he inched his way back to freedom.

Her work being done, the Proud Mom took her photo and went home. In wonder and amazement, I watched from the doorway, broom in hand, as she drove her minivan into the sunset.