My Friend

Let me tell you about my little baby lizard.

He may be getting bigger, but he's still a baby, and has a long life ahead of him.

Aristotle Stupid Socks. That's his name. And I love him so much.

I love how when I move around my room making noise, he peeks his head out of the eye socket of the skull he lives in and watches me.

I love how I can whistle at him and he looks up.

I like putting him on my kitchen table and watching him run around, trying to find a way off, but there is no way, so he just runs around.

I put him on my coffee table, and he liked looking over the edge of that too. He'd get close and look over the edge, then move somewhere else and look over the edge. He kept getting more and more confident, looking over farther and farther. I was working on a puzzle while he was doing this. I looked up at one point, just in time to see him look so far off the edge that he lost his grip, and his little feet couldn't hold on to the slipper wood, and he tumbled over the edge.

When he falls, he just lays close to the ground.

I like how when I walk into my room, and he isn't in his skull, he freaks out when he sees me, and runs all over the cage frantically.

I picked Stupid up off the ground after he fell off the coffee table and held him up to the lip of Samson's bowl. He held his head up with a cocky air and walked right into the bowl. Full of water.

He didn't like that.

I like how when I point at his food bowl, he knows exactly what that means.

One time I reached my hand into his cage, holding a worm. Stupid saw the shadow of the worm moving on the sand. He ate the sand.

That little dear was only $20. I'd say it was the best money I've spent.