She told me that the large, foul-smelling iguana next to her desk was the college’s mascot. “He loves football! Isn’t he cute?” she purred as the thing crawled up her shoulder, its claws clambering for purchase on her brown sweater. As her question was rhetorical she continued to sing its praises, all the while peeling potato chip sized scales from its body.
“What do you do with it during the holidays?” I asked.
“I take Iggy home.”
And then I imagined this reptile, assuming pride of place in her living room, nestled among her collections of plaster angels and Crocs.
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