In Canada when we see the words "entertaining family reference" it usually isn't coupled with a book about the local wildlife that will dead you.

So yeah, when we were planning our trip to Australia, we were a bit concerned about wandering around in a country that has 11 of the 15 most poisonous snakes in the world.

Silly us.

The only reptile that took any interest in us at all was this skink, who had a really cool trick, eh. First time I walked by him he puffed up his head, opened his mouth wide, and hurled this bright blue tongue out at me as if to say, "Come any closer, foreign devil, and I will puke all over you."

You've got to love a creature that threatens to puke you. Because I'm just way, way too easily amused, I backed up then walked back towards the skink to see if he'd do it again.

(I would like to state for the record that although it's true that at my age it's not often you get thrown a little tongue by males you don't know, let alone a BLUE tongue, that had nothing to do with my Fun With Skink. It's a separate issue.)

Oh, be quiet.

Now where was I? Oh yeah, the second time I walked towards him, the wee lizard repeated the tongue toss.

I'm not sure how many times I danced the skink tango, me backing up and then approaching him to get the death puke reaction. I kind of lost count. But sometime within a dozen or so approaches (hey, I don't get to play with lizards very often, I was up for HOURS of fun, eh) the skink caught on to the fact that I was not a threat.

He wouldn't give me the tongue.

Bored that my new playmate wasn't much fun anymore, I headed off to the nearby internet café to send some e-mail to friends. When I came back, the skink was gone. He never came back again, but at least I have his picture and the memories.

Yes, my friends, 'tis better to have been tongued and lost than never to have been tongued at all.