It all began with my pet lizard, Bill. Let me set the scene for you. I'm a college student, eating strawberries with powdered sugar (yum!) at my grandmother's kitchen table. Bill is perched in his usual spot on my shoulder. In walks my dad (think stuffy businessman with wire-framed glasses), who has never had the pleasure of meeting Bill.
"Dad," I say, taking Bill in one hand, "This is Bill!"
Dad takes a step back. Bill's little feet pulse once, then twice, and he leaps–straight for my dad's face! Bill's back feet cling to Dad's nose. His front feet grip Dad's glasses. My father is dismayed, disgusted, and disappointed.
But I have an idea for a picture book.