Gecko and the Oreos

I found out today that Oreos have no butter or milk in them, to my initial joy.

Lying in bed, peacefully asleep, I woke to the sound of clicking and scratching outside in the lounge. At first I think Freddie, then of the girl in The Ring (given the size of the TV here). Then I thought to myself (despite feeling like a small child again): "Don't be ridiculous. You're a grown woman. Use some logic."

I thought perhaps it might have been the doorbell, which I know does not make a bell-like sound, more of a cracking sound, though what someone would be doing this time of night ringing my bell... Maybe my book delivery from England. Who knows how package deliveries work here? I bravely opened my bedroom door and there it was again: the clicking. I peered through the spy-glass of the front door: no-one. I lifted the mat in case they'd put a card under the door and it had got stuck: nothing. I opened the front door (hiding behind it) and looked down for a package: nothing. Then I thought perhaps the next door neighbour dropping something - the walls are like paper. No. His grille was closed.

There it was again: the clicking. Then a rustle. Now I didn't imagine that sound! I switched on the lights and headed to the loo. Might as well go, now I am awake. As I passed through the kitchen, the Oreos packet on the sideboard moved. I looked again and it moved again. A sudden rustle and a clicking sound. That was the sound. Then I noticed. Gecko clearly likes Oreos too and had got herself stuck in the transparent outer wrapper. I carefully removed the individually wrapped trios of Oreo and eased her out of her invisible prison. With a final click, she scurried behind the fridge. Honestly who'd have thought an innocent Oreo could cause so much trouble?

And why is the flat clicking so much this evening...?