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This blurry picture is from our most recent move, with Cricket claiming yet another box.

This blurry picture is from our most recent move, with Cricket claiming yet another box.

More boxes are unpacked, and our house is starting to feel a little more permanent. I’m still a bit unorganized, so the baby blanket post is … pending. So is the baby blanket, for that matter. Instead, I’ve got a story from when Mr. Gecko and I were first married.

Our first trip as a married couple (not counting the honeymoon, when we were still filled with wedding bliss, eggrolls, and cupcakes) involved moving all of my worldly possessions about 900 miles. We decided to test our compatibility early.

I’ve moved a few times over varying distances, so I knew how to prepare( Having someone else move us was a different story). I started packing months before. I was fairly ruthless when weeding out things I didn’t need. I obsessively labeled boxes. I fell down the stairs a week before the wedding and landed on my bad knee. That was fun. I still have a scar.

Midway through the fourth day after returning from our honeymoon, we were finally read to go. My stuff and the few things of his that hadn’t been sent to him were loaded in the moving truck; my truck, the cab also full of stuff, had been loaded onto the trailer and tied down. The critters, each in their own little (or big) carrier, were put in the cab of the moving truck. This was pre-Sugar, so everyone fit (barely) in the smallish space.

The cat, who never liked car rides, since they had only involved going to the vet, ended up in her carrier between us. She wouldn’t fit anywhere else in the cab. Her carrier has a door on both the front and the top, so I was able to keep an eye on her. The crested geckos, who were in smaller carriers with damp moss and paper towel hiding spots (easy to replace and not heavy enough to hurt the geckos if they moved or fell over) had been tucked under the seat. I had a crochet baby blanket to start for a friend who’s baby was born a few days before the wedding, so that was in a bag at my feet. I was ready. We waved goodbye and were off.

Two hours down the road, we stopped to check the load and stretch our legs. Cricket was handling the journey well enough. I narrowly averted disaster with the geckos, however. Unbeknownst to me, there was no insulation on the floor of the cab under the seat. That little area got so hot, I almost burned my hand touching it. And of course, I had innocently put the geckos right on top of it.

Fortunately, I had lined their cages with plenty of paper towels, and had made sure the moss was nice and damp before we left. They were a little on the warm side, but otherwise unharmed. Phew! I relocated their little tanks to a cubbyhole behind the seat. It meant more stuff around my feet, but better that than poached gecko.

Mr. Gecko and I had gone on long car rides together before, but not that long, and not newly married. I admit, I was a little nervous going into the whole expedition, and the little almost-disaster made us both a bit tense. That’s when Cricket decided to fix things.

The sun had set to the right of the long, boring stretch of I-5 before us. We had eaten dinner, and wanted to get a couple more hours in before calling it a night. The cab was quiet, and we were both resting our arms on top of Cricket’s carrier. Out of nowhere, Mr. Gecko yelps and throws his arm in the air. I jumped, startled, and from Cricket’s carrier came a soft little “mew”.

Turns out, Cricket had sat up in her carrier and touched her nose to my husband’s bare arm. I thought it was a good sign that she was investigating things, and laughed.

But it took her less than two minutes to figure out that if she touched his arm with her nose or ear, he would react with a yelp, “hey”, or with a semi-violent arm jerk. It was a new game! This game continued off and on for the rest of our journey, to my very ticklish husband’s dismay.