They were eggs. Real eggs—from some kind of creature. I couldn’t even speak at first. I just stared at my son, and he understood there was no point in hiding the truth anymore.
It turned out the boys from the neighboring class hadn’t given him those eggs by accident. One of them kept lizards at home and, as we later learned, had been bringing their eggs to school for quite some time.
He would talk about them to some students, show them to others, and even sell them to a few. For teenagers, it all seemed like some kind of unusual entertainment. My son got caught up in it too.
He was curious to see how a small creature would hatch from the egg, and he decided he could raise it at home without telling anyone.
He admitted that he planned to hide them in his room and wait for something to hatch. He had already read online how to keep them warm, where to place the eggs, and how to feed the babies afterward.
He talked about it with a strange excitement, as if it were a harmless experiment—not living reptiles that could appear in our home at any moment.
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