Chapter 2. Crocodiles make terrible pets

So there I was, twelve years later, married to Prince Charming and living the life in the United States. I had more that I could I ever asked for, given the fact that my parents were divorced, my dad had remarried to a young ambitious lady, my mom had not recovered from it and I was not one of those girls born in the middle of a well-off family.

My head and I guess fate had put me were I was, and it was not bad place at all given my background. At the time, I was living in an exclusive high-rise in downtown Chicago, I was driving a white pepper mini Cooper S convertible and I would share palapas in the Caribbean with international rock stars staying at the cabana next door to mine. Not a bad setting.

I can even go further to say that I had the best mother in law that one could possible ask for! Loving, discrete, respectful and gorgeous as well. Or course at the time I did not know what it was like to have a real mother in law. I had to meet the crocodile for that.

It was 2011 when I unconsciously decided to go to the men shop behind my husbands’ back and to look around for something new. I knew exactly what I was looking for. I wanted something exciting, ferocious, bold, a men that could sit at a dinner table and be the center of attention, a man that would speak up and dance and be without measure, like me. Like many women, I wanted my man to be THE man and probably like many women I wanted that man to resemble my father.

For all those years with Prince Charming (almost 12), I had always felt in charge. If I wanted to go to that restaurant, we would go to that restaurant, if I wanted to buy a flat, we would buy a flat, if I wanted to move to he suburbs and get a dog, we would move to the suburbs and get a dog, if I wanted a new designer’s bag I would get the bag. Most women envied me, some even hated me some despised me and the smartest of them wanted to hang out with me to see “how I did it”. Strangely enough, the more my husband and my marriage fulfilled other women’s dreams, the more I felt more and more indifferent to the whole thing.

My crocodile was waiting for me.

It was not love at first sight. In fact quite the opposite, I even felt sorry for the guy. He was a unique specimen: single, successful, funny…alright, but not the tallest nor the best looking and he had that aura from the rural areas that made him seem a bit out of place in my hometowns’ fancy bars. I found him funny and forgettable at the same time. Inoffensive, as cute as a baby crocodile could be.

Why would anyone want a crocodile as a pet? At the pet shop there were of course, other options, turtles, cats, dogs, hamsters, even teddy bears if you want, but none of those conventional animals seemed to fulfill my desire. I had to set my eyes on that tiny quasi adorable crocodile, waving its tale and looking straight back at me. I was well warned about the risks but the challenge seemed just perfect and I decided to take him. “I can handle it”. Why can’t I have a crocodile as a pet? I am special right? I deserve something unique and different. I’ve been everywhere, I can turn this potentially dangerous crocodile into a loving, caring companion. He will love me to death, just like Prince Charming does.

I was wrong.

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