THE DAY OF THE IGUANA
(This story is a re-run, but it always makes me smile.)
Nothing unusual happened today—unless you count that thing with the iguana…
There I was, sitting on my front porch, staring out at a desert full of cactus, creosote bushes, and Joshua Trees, minding my own business, mellowed out, my feet up and a cancer stick in my mouth, when the dang thing wandered on the porch. He stood staring up at me with his long skinny tongue darting back and forth like he thought I was the most delicious thing he’d seen all day.
Now, if you’ve never seen an iguana before, those suckers grow big! Not like those little pets you see in stores plopped down in big, plastic buckets. This guy must’ve been five feet long, including that yardstick tail he drug up the steps behind him. I thought I was gonna mess my britches before I could get on the other side of the screen door. But soon as I did, he gives me this pitiful little look that says he’s lost his best friend. And I swear a tear run down his scaly face.
Never one to hurt a guy’s feelings, I says to him, “Baby, it wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t so god-awful ugly. Look at that skin! You done look like you been out in the sun way too long. And those fingernails! Honey, what you really need is a manicure.”
So up I get to the bathroom, collect my little basket of clippers, and emery boards, and cuticle scissors, and march right back out on that porch. Sure enough, he’s still there, still looking sad and forlorn. I open up my basket and get to work.
I’m here to tell you, that iguana spread-eagled on that porch and lay there just as patient as if I was his mama fixing him a bowl of Ramen Noodles and tossing in three ice cubes to cool it off!
In no time, I finished my job, and put my things back in my little basket. I could a sworn the prissy critter smiled as he turned and ambled off the porch with the brightest, prettiest Jungle-Red toenails you done ever seen.
And that was my day. The day of the iguana.