Some of you reading this are aware of my ongoing issues regarding wildlife, and the valiant rescues that have been executed by me and my trusty pool net.
Right here at 145 Crazy Road, I have been forced to face my fears of small animals, ie: birds, frogs, baby turkeys, bugs(the infamous water bug, pictures to follow)and many, many, more. I've had an enormous moose walk right up to my backdoor and owls fly by in broad daylight(while watching Harry Potter, no less).
The most recent incident(s) have been with mice.
Now, until I am face-to-face with any rodent, frog, bug, etc..., I am unaware of my deep-seeded fear of them, or, I have simply forgotten about how terrified I am of such creatures in their absence.
For instance, a few months ago, while Kiki was learning rhyming words in pre-k, I came up with a little fictional story about a mouse living in our house. Here is a little excerpt from that story:
they were playing together
and heard a noise
they stopped to listen, put down their toys~
"ssshhh!" Whispered Nick...
They tiptoed downstairs
all listening still
to the noises that came from under the sill
They looked at the wall and discovered a hole
hidden behind their dad's fishing pole!
they could still hear the noise...
"I think its a mouse!" Kiki said to the boys.
"A mouse in our house?" Tyler laughed and giggled.
Then out of the hole a little mouse wiggled...
Now the story goes onto describe this cute little mouse, and the kids go about building a mouse house for her in the shed. The whole family comes to love her and they take care of her and her baby mice that come along later in the story...
The kids loved this, and at the time, it was PURE fiction.
So it was an ironic twist that a month or two after writing this story that I came home one afternoon to a "kid less" house. I took off my shoes and was prepared to take advantage of a quiet moment with a magazine and a cup of tea.(It was really too early for wine).
I thougggghhht I saw something scurry by the front door. You know, when your heart skips a little, and you shake it off, hoping that it reeaaaallly didn't happen?
Then my Dad brought Tyler home, the magazine went back to its position down the side of the couch cushion, and life was noisy again.(and that's okay with me).
I sat down with Tyler and was about to....well I can't remember what...because at that moment...that damned little mouse ran right across the floor!
EEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!Just like on a Tom & Jerry cartoon, I jumped up Tom Cruise style onto the couch, nearly bouncing a now shrieking Tyler onto the floor.
Now he is crying, I am screaming, and unsure what to do. I grabbed a shovel that was just outside the front door, and the big pot that happened to be at the top of the stairs for reasons that again, I can't remember.
What I was going to do with the shovel, I wasn't sure. I wasn't going to kill it! I guess I was going to either trap it, or shovel it out the front door. But where had it gone?
I called my husband, but could only manage to get out breathless, crazy screams. He could barely hear me on his cell phone, and must have thought there was an ax murderer in the house. He wasn't responding the way I needed him to, and in my state of sheer panic, hung up and called my dad. I wasn't any more articulate with him, either, and when I tried to calm down, I saw the mouse go racing across the floor and under the heater near the front door. I dropped the phone with my dad still on the other end.
Then, I saw Nick coming up the driveway. Tyler went racing out, screaming about the mouse, and as I stood there with the door open, shovel ready, the mouse came out and tried to escape, just as Tyler was coming in! FOILED! The screams continued, and the mouse disappeared somewhere behind the couch. My neighbors must've thought the worst.
My mom and dad came speeding up the driveway, surely expecting to witness a crime in progress...with me standing at the top of the hill, pale, shaking, and shovel clutched in my white-knuckled hands.
MM-o-u-s-e! Was all I could manage. Surprisingly, my mother, from whom I inherited my un-Godly fear of frogs)went in like a General leading her troops fearlessly into battle. At that point, I realized I was handling the situation very poorly. Is this how Tyler would respond to situations like this as an adult? He would never find a wife...Oh, Lord!
I re-entered the house with a new attitude. After all, I KNEW that it was more scared of me, and my shovel, and my Dad with the pool net, and Tyler, who now was referencing the story, and how much he wanted to see the mouse so we could build her the house in the shed! AAAWWWW.
I need to wrap this up and say later, in the wee hours of the night, the mouse fell prey to the ingenious trap built by my husband, the cheese,(albeit "cheap" cheese, as Mackenzie called it)and Casey, our playful Golden Retriever, who I'm certain did NOT mean the mouse any harm.
A few days ago, I noticed Casey tossing something about on the front lawn...I thought it was his beloved tennis ball, but as I got closer, I realized it was...a mouse. I shooed Casey away, and saw that the mouse was still alive. The kids came running over, as I directed Nick to put the dog inside, so that I could gently move the injured mouse to safety. What was happening to me?
I moved it to the edge of the lawn, and hoped for the best.
I checked the next day, and he was not where I left him. I think that little mouse made it.
You see? I'm not so heartless that I won't realize what an idiot I am and help out when necessary. I'm no Snow White, but I hold my own when it comes to the creatures that inhabit my property. Me and my net, and my spaghetti pot.
My poor kids think I am a lunatic.
And now I wonder...what will happen if that mouse turns up in my living room again?
Knowing me...I am sure...I will scream.
And so goes the cycle of crazy.
Thanks for reading.