A Foolish Mom And Her Money

Ann: My house looks like it’s in a horror movie. There are literally thousands of furry caterpillars covering the entire outside.

Pam: Is that from the webworms we saw a couple weeks ago that were all over that huge tree out front?

Ann: Yeah, it’s pretty creepy. I wish I could at least charge them rent.

Pam: Better yet, gather them up and sell ‘em.

Ann: Who on earth would pay for caterpillars?

Pam: Oh how soon you forget. Remember when Ross was about seven? I made the mistake of agreeing to step into the pet store to look at the puppies. But Ross became fascinated with the anoles.

Ann: What the heck’s an anole?

Pam: That’s a fancy pet store term for a common garden lizard. They seem to think that using an exotic name will convince a gullible, indulgent mother to make the purchase.

Ann: Well, apparently it worked because I remember when you had those particular pets.

Pam: It started out simply enough – a clear plastic cage and two lizards. Then they tried to sell me ceramic sticks for them to crawl on.

Ann: Heck, I had plenty of real ones I’d have sold you.

Pam: I said I had an endless supply of sticks in my yard. Believe it or not, they said outdoor sticks weren’t sterile and the anoles would get sick. Ross looked up at me in a panic.

Ann: What, did Ross think the lizards in the yard were taking high-powered antibiotics? So did you buy the fake sticks?

Pam: No, but I must confess, to ease his mind, we boiled EVERY stick before it went into the cage.

Ann: So how does this help me with my caterpillars?

Pam: I’m getting there. We bought freeze-dried lizard food but the stupid lizards wouldn’t eat it and after a couple of days their little tummies were starting to cave in. So it was back to the pet shop for advice.

They told me the lizards might prefer live food and sold me a margarine tub full of mealworms. I had to keep them in the fridge so they would stay dormant until I put them in the cage. Then they’d warm up, wiggle and draw the lizards’ attention.


Ann: So did that make the lizards fat and happy?

Pam: Only one, the other one must have been a gourmet and mealworms must not have qualified. So it was back to the pet store yet again.

This time, they told me that he probably wanted to ‘hunt’ his own food and they sold me a clear plastic bag with three live crickets.

Ann: Yuck!

Pam: Yeah, it was nasty but it worked. Both lizards loved ‘em. Unfortunately it wasn’t ‘cricket season’ so I couldn’t gather them myself. I had to stop by the pet store every couple of days for fresh crickets. Well, that got old fast, so believe it or not, I bought a second cage to fill with crickets.


Ann: So what’s the life expectancy of a cricket in captivity?

Pam: I assume you mean prior to being put in the lizard cage. That leads to the next absurdity. To keep the crickets alive while they awaited their fate, I had to buy cricket food.

Ann: Let me get this straight, you bought food for the food?

Pam: I told you it was absurd. This is what mothers do.

Ann: You forget, I’m a mom too, and I can honestly say I never had dormant mealworms sleeping in my fridge or bought food to feed the food for our pets.

Pam: Well, I said I’m a gullible, indulgent mother.

Ann: In that case, back to my caterpillars. Have I got a deal for you!