I love geckos. Who doesn’t love geckos? They can climb up walls and amble across ceilings. They don’t have eyelids and lick their eyes instead to keep them moist. Unlike most lizards, they talk. I looked them up on Wikipedia and my eyes glazed over, but that may be because it is only about eight in the morning and I am not up the the physics lesson about how they stick on. I worked five appointments yesterday and was pushing a Ukrainian whiplash patient out the door at a quarter to nine. She passed my new gecko.
Just something I picked up in a catalog. Four geckos for a Jackson. The other three are on the back fence.
I just felt like the house wasn’t complete without them. I mean, for years I have had a crush on the Geico Gecko.
(Strangely, I have never been inspired to buy the insurance. I just like the gecko.)
Real geckos don’t have a British accent of course. They scream sometimes though.
So now I have my very own lucky geckos. Who are fortunately very quiet. Sometimes you just have to do something silly.