I’m not sure what the geckos are like where you live, but around here, they’re out of control. There was a little decline in activity around the time we did our last pest spray {cringe} but they’ve made an epic comeback. Where there was guilt before at their chemical-based deaths, I now think they probably moved out and now they’re back.

And they’re seeking their revenge. Good on them.

But really, I feel a little like they should be directing their anger towards Kel. He led the charge for their evacuation {or probably murder}. He’s the guy. But sensing what I assume was weakness they came for me. I hate unpredictable things that scurry and crawl. Rodents are my least favourite {cue shiver} but geckos, spiders and general creepy crawly type things are next. I feel like maybe they knew this.

Lifting a towel of the shower frame, I knocked the gecko into the bath below. Damn it. Not wanting to be locked in the shower with it, I left the door open so it could escape while I get undressed. It made it up the side of the bath to the shower ledge and sat there. FFS. That wouldn’t do. So, at the other end of the shower, I turned the water on to signal┬áthat it was go time.

My mate, he didn’t move.

Worried that the water would make it too slippery to climb, I’m nothing if not consideration, I turned it off and wandered the hallway in my towel. I wasn’t going to touch, but Kel was otherwise occupied and well, he makes fun of how creepy I find all things that creep and crawl. I waited. I took peeks at the shower now and then, and soon it had made its way to the roof. It was time.

I jumped into the shower, all the time doing my best not to stand directly under it. I mean, drop-geckos HAVE to be worse than drop-bears, right? But as time went on I settled into my shower. Finally, I pulled down some coffee scrub, squirted in my face wash to give myself a bit of an exfoliate. Eye closed and scrubbing away I forgot all about the visitor.

Well, until I stepped forward to get back under the water, that is.

And UGH, it had fallen from goodness knows where, and I half stepped on it, half almost died, as it soaked up the water in the base of the shower. I didn’t even scream. Eyes still clenched shut to avoid crap in my eyes. I just let out this throaty, grossed out, UGH. Followed by a string of the f-ing-est swear words you’ve heard a person bellow. From the other room, I hear Kel snigger. Jerk face.

I wash the coffee off my face and body. Quickly, so I can get the heck out of there. And as soon as my vision is returned, ignoring the general carnage that is now my shower (coffee scrubbers, you know the kind I’m talking about). Barely done, I leapt out of the shower and slammed the door. I swear to God, there is nothing more humbling and humiliating than being naked, dripping wet, half covered in remaining coffee grinds. escaping from something that’s 4 inches long.

That gecko really humbled me.

Meanwhile, I’m seeking a new husband if you know of anyone. Must not think gecko related trauma is funny. That’s a priority.