Friday, October 5, 2012

A Crocodile in the Living Room!

A crocodile where? What?
A couple of days ago I read a post by talented author Joanne Wadsworth while she was vacationing in Fiji. She mentioned how she was forced to play the hero by her young son (her husband was conveniently unavailable at that moment) to a couple of frogs stranded in a small rowing boat. Her tale made me laugh because, of course, she is not fond of frogs.
I thought I would share a tale that to this day, not only makes me smile and laugh, but I always bring up when we’re swapping stories at a family gathering. Well, okay, one of many…but I’m sure that’s normal, right?
Our house in Costa Rica (for those of you who don’t know, I was born and raised there) had a formal living room for entertaining. My Mom hosted plenty of Thursday Tea Group meetings, where the ladies would knit or crochet, and Friday Group meetings, where a different group would play card games and share anecdotes. This living room was off-limits as a kid because of all the treasures it held.
Where was I? Oh, yes! The crocodile…
One afternoon I was playing in my room when I heard screaming and a ruckus. A rushed out to see what was going on and there was my Mom, usually so calm (she’s a nurse so she handles emergencies well), screaming like a banshee. “A crocodile! There’s a crocodile in the living room!”

Crocodiles from

Even at the tender age of eight, I knew there was no way there could be a crocodile in the living room. Right? I mean, we do have them down there, but not in the capital. But from that to finding one inside the house. Maybe in a movie, but not in real life. Dad was at work and all my brothers were in school or out, and the maids were trying to calm my Mom. I was so curious I just had to go and see what monster lurked in the living room.

So I walked into the room expecting some huge creature to jump out and attack, but there was no animal in sight. Obviously relieved but still curious, I set forth to explore the dangerous terrain comprised by antique furniture, priceless porcelain figurines and a plush white area rug where feet had been known to disappear within the cushiony clumps of fabric.

Cute dragon from

It was here that I found my Mom’s crocodile. Carefully I parted clumps of fabric and scooped up a small garden lizard that had wandered into our home. I was laughing all the way back to the kitchen where my Mom waited. She hasn’t lived that one down yet.

Child holding lizard from

How about you? Do you have any monster stories to share? I’d love to hear from you!


  1. What a great story. I'm not fond of crocodiles either. Luckily, in New Zealand, we don't have them. Thanks for linking me in at the beginning of your story. *smiling*

    Joanne Wadsworth

    1. Hi, Joanne. How awesome that you stopped by! Love your blog and I appreciate your message.

  2. Replies
    1. Yep, that about sums it up. ;) Thanks for stopping by, Lacey.