As you know, Samuel loves all things alive. If he could pick a favorite, it would probably be the lizard. Yesterday, George found a baby one in a box and decided to save it for Samuel to see. When Samuel saw it, he excitedly asked if the baby lizard was his Christmas present. George, jokingly said yes and Samuel responded that this was the best Christmas ever. I had to break it to him that daddy only wanted to let him see it, not to keep it. He finally convinced us to let him keep him for the day but he had to release it in the morning. So the lizard stayed in a box. Well, he didn't really stay in the box much. Samuel carried the poor thing around most of the time. At one point he told me he was taking the lizard, who he named Sam, upstairs to his room to play. When he got done playing and came downstairs, he said, "Wow, we had a great time." Not sure how you can have a great time with a baby lizard.
Last night before I went to bed, I went to check on Samuel. He was sound asleep, the lizard in the box right next to him, his arm lovingly around the box. First thing this morning, I heard him talking to Sam. "Hey little guy, how did you sleep?"
After breakfast I told Samuel that it was time to let the lizard go. "But mom, I love him. Please let me play with him a little more." I told him a few more minutes.
Not five minutes had gone by when I hear,
"Mom, hurry, I need a band aid."
"Sam's tail came off."
It was time to let the poor little guy go. A lizard in a four year old's hands is not a fun place. Frankly, I can't think of anything that's safe in a four year old's hands. I hope Sam's ok. I hope tailless baby lizards aren't rejected by their mothers. I hope he lives through the trauma he endured by my son's hands. At least he'll have quite a story to tell his brothers and sisters.