Sitting on a grassy knoll today after work, reading (how spoiled am I? Spoiled enough to stop at the park on my way home and read for an hour, that's how spoiled), a woman and her two daughters play and frolic near me.
They've found a lizard, and the girls seem to be taking turns holding it and shoving it in their good-natured and even playful mother's face. They're all laughing, then suddenly shrieks of panicked giggling break out. Mom is standing up, dancing in place, feeling around in her skorts: "I can't feel him anywhere! Where could he have gone?! Do you see him? He must have run away, right?" Right after this hopeful question she got her answer, as a little greyish-brown streak ran down her leg and was caught by the older daughter.
"I think it's time to go home, now."