To get a laugh around our house, all you have to do is mention the Time Uncle Art found the "alligator" in the bathroom.

Art, may he rest in peace in a place where there are no creepy-crawlies, was visiting from Minnesota. His first night with us, we were horrified to hear shrieks of terror coming from the bathroom.

The entire family rushed to the door to find Uncle Art standing on the toilet seat screaming, "There's an alligator in the bathtub!"

It was a gecko.

As my brother corraled the little critter and escorted him elsewhere, the rest of us tried to keep from laughing in Uncle Art's face. Without much success.

When my parents owned a small hotel, my mother used to deal regularly with hysterical tourists who would come across a cockroach in their rooms. The flying "747" kind could result in an immediate check-out.

One time I was staying in this luxuary hotel on the Big Island and I got a call frome someone who identified himself as "Mark from Pest Control." He said someone had called to complain about an insect in my room. "Nope," I said, "not me. I live here." Mark hung up, puzzled.

If there were an insect in my room I'd have shooed it, killed it or ignored it, depending. Coackroaches I shoo, spiders and centipedes I kill and geckos and ants I ignore.

Actually, geckos I watch. My apartment is afflicted with these immense ants and the geckos just love to lie in wait for them near their nest. It happens to be in a great spot for spectating. I can lie back on the couch and watch the geckos perch on the wall, perfectly still, like crouching cats. An ant ambles by and - zap! - it's history.

When I tell my friends on the Mainland about this, they just don't get it...