My Hero...

Last night, as I was cleaning up the kitchen, my husband comes in a grabs a Target bag and then picks up the chef knife I used to prepare dinner. He sizes it up and starts heading towards the bedrooms.

Me: "What's goin' on?!?"
Wes: "Don't worry about it, I got it."

Okay, everytime he says that, it's because he's found a spider or a roach and he's going to take care of it before I find it. The thing is, he always uses toilet paper or his bare hand to kill them... not a knife! So I start freaking out.

Me: "Wes! What's going on?!?!?"
Wes: "Nothing, dont' worry about it."
Me: "Okay, but you're not taking that knife!" "I use it to cook with!"
Wes: "It'll get cleaned!"
Me: "NO!"

So he puts the knife down and grabs the hammer!

Me: "Wes, what's going on?!?"
Wes: "I found a lizard."
Me: "A lizard or a gecko?"
Wes: "A gecko."
Me: "Okay, I'll get it, you're not smashing it."

I get the Target bag from him and head over to the gecko and start to step on a chair to reach it and my stomach starts to churn. I think I dealt with so many of these geckos last summer that I can barely stomach them now. I couldn't even bring myself to step up on the chair. So Wes said he'd do it.

Me: "No, cause you'll kill it."
Wes: "No, I won't kill it, I 've got it."

He then gently scoops it up and takes it outside and puts in on the patio, where the gecko scampers off back into our yard. I imagine it'll be back, but for now, our wall doesn't have a knife or hammer hole or a dead gecko plastered on it.

Thank you, my love!