Life is difficult right now for a lot of people. The economy is in a slump, people not being able to find jobs, penny pinching is the norm. We could all use a good laugh, and because I don't mind using my own fiasco's of life to make for a good story and hopefully some smiles....here it is.
Those of you that have been reading my blog for awhile know that my family moved into our new house this past summer. We had built it ourselves (of course with the help of at least a million other people) and are pretty happy with how things have turned out. Except for the fact that since we built our house in the middle of what used to be open farmland, basically a big field, we have field mice. Okay, so we moved into their territory.....they need to get over it! They invaded our garage in full rodent force. That was bad enough as I am not friends of rodents named Mickey, Stuart, or Jerry. Well, really I'm not friends with any rodents. Period.Um....as a matter of fact I am an arch enemy. Just so you know where I stand.
So, the fact we had these furry creatures in our garage was bad enough......but when one escaped into the living quarters of the house.....and by living quarters I mean the master bedroom/bath.....this was all out war! So, here is the story from my point of view, others might say differently (namely my husband) but don't listen to them...because I'm telling the story here.
The other night I had to use the bathroom before going to bed. (as God gave me the bladder the size of a pea, that is just my burden to bear) It was a little after 10 and I was tired. I trudged into the bathroom and had just sat down when IT ran right under my feet. At this point my brain has not caught up with my vocal cords. As I lifted my feet straight off the floor I let out a scream. My brain kicked in when my husband came tearing into the bathroom, at my obvious distress. The fact that I'm sitting on the toilet with my legs stuck straight out, pointing at the corner of the room..... he guessed it was the mouse. He is a smart man. I, still perched on the toilet, told him "to get it!" He grabbed a trap we had (since we had been trying to get the fur ball since the evening before) and he cornered the mouse. Long story short the mouse got his leg caught in the trap and there was a lot of squealing going on. (by the mouse,not my husband) My husband stood there with a wriggling mouse. He was my hero! The Mouse Master!
So, he wasn't sure what to do with it since it was still alive. He took it outside where our outdoor kitty saw him and thought to herself, " Daddy, thank you so much! You brought me a night time snack. How thoughtful of you." She took off with it and needless to say the bathroom mouse was no more.
As an ending to the story I had to clean up the mouse "remnants" the next morning. Yuck. I know why I hate mice and their little "presents" they leave behind. I cloroxed everything. Let that clean aroma be a deterrent to any other rodents that get the idea that they can share my house. The only time I'm interested in seeing a rodent is if it's on TV being chased by Tom.