Of laundry and... surprises.

Doing the laundry became part of my list of phobias.

That reads "freaky", but I am pretty serious.

Last Saturday - March 19, to be exact - my aunt told me to continue doing the laundry. She was going somewhere, she said. I accepted, having nothing to do since it was a lazy, lazy day. She told me which knobs to turn, how to put the washed clothes in the spin dryer, where to hang the clothes, etc. When she left, I was all alone inside the house; my younger sister was playing outside.

So, I did the laundry. I turned the knob and waited for three minutes so the clothes would be washed. Then, when that was done, I proceeded to put them on the spin dryer. That load was composed of everyday clothes: sando, t-shirts, and shorts. To make sure that there were no left-over clothes on the washer, I plunged my hand into the murky depths and scoured the floor of the washer. I felt something long. Thinking it was part of one of our shorts (you know, the string that you pull to make it tighter, or whatever...), I lifted it up.

It was yellowish white on one side and green on the other.

It was thin at one end, but it eventually got fatter.

This was no string...

The revelation came when I saw what looked liked feet coming after the tail. I immediately let go of whatever it was and squelched a yelp: it was a big lizard!

I called my sister and told her that there was a lizard in the washing machine, dead. She was freaked, too. I mean, who wouldn't be? I drained the water and when it was all gone, there it was. The lizard was lying on its back and it looked like it was spread-eagled. It drowned (duh!), although how it came to be there is a mystery. I grabbed a rag and picked it up with it. I threw the dead lizard into the trash.

Urgh. I still have goosebumps when I remember that.