From morning to evening, yesterday was an incredibly unusual day.
It was the final moments before the younger two kids ventured out into the crisp morning air while they were putting on their hats and gloves when Chris let out the most blood curdling scream and began running around hysterically. Now, as a mom you know your kids have different cries. There’s the whining nothing-is-really-wrong-I-just-want-your-attention cry. There’s the cry with actual tears to display sincere, yet manageable pain. Then there is the unmistakable, your stomach drops the moment you hear it cry, and you know something is really wrong demanding immediate intervention cry. The latter describes Chris’s cry yesterday. When I found him curled in a fetal position on the couch he managed to scream, “A mouse! There is a mouse in our house! It crawled out of my hat when I went to put it on!” Evidently he brought in his hat from the garage, also a rodent’s home for the night… By this time his younger brother got wind of what was going on, and he too was hysterical, on top of the couch. “Are you sure, Chris?” I asked. The boy looked sure. Wishful thinking on my part, I guess… The two kids bolted out the door for the bus fastest I’d ever seen, and for the first time I wished I could get on the bus with them! Instead, I returned with great fear and trembling to my house… Taking careful steps with eyes wide open. Nothing. Silence. “Maybe he was just seeing things,” I reassured myself. (Guess this would be an appropriate time to mention my phobia of bugs, reptiles, and rodents? And I do use phobia in the truest context of the word!)
Then I saw it. A small, thin, black, mouse and I screamed the loudest blood curdling scream you’ve ever heard. Much like Chris’s come to think of it, only a few pitches off. I was shocked that the rodent didn’t so much as flinch in response to my ear piercing wail! What on Earth could I do? I grabbed my broom and chased it around, wailing the entire time. I was armed, but not real dangerous, as I was so paralyzed with fear, and did not what to hit the thing! Then I realized I had to make a move or else have an uninvited house guest for an untold number of days! So I tried to hit it with my broom – no luck. So I stood hovering over it, just staring at it. I called my father and mother-in-law who, bless their hearts, came over with mouse traps. When they came I was still staring at it, scared half to death with the back door open wide in the hopes that the thing would run out unharmed. Well, they came in and we fell into position. First in line was my fearless mother-in-law, with a spray bottle of Clorox in hand in the hopes we could stun it and then carry it out of the house. (With the added bonus of disinfecting it at the same time!) Next my father-in-law with broom in hand. I was in the rear. No productive job for me, now that I think of it. We chased the mole (as I learned it was) for a couple hours until we finally lost sight of it in my dining room. We could not find it anywhere. We moved all the furniture around, lifted the couch, turned it upside down – no mole.
I left my house to run a couple errands and when I came home checked all the traps we set – Mr. Mole was nowhere to be found. When I walked across the dining room I felt a little bump under my feet… Holding my breath (and broom again) I lifted it up to find the mole flat as a pancake between my area rug and rug pad underneath! We must have turned the couch upside down on it! Though I am sorry it died, I have to tell you RELIEF came over me when I realized operation mole had come to an end!
When I picked up the kids from school I learned everyone from the principle to the janitor heard the news of the mouse in our house. Evidently Chris and Jacob asked all their friends to please call them and ask them to come over their house because they were afraid to come home. They were also happy to hear it was dead. Not so happy to hear its remains were where I found it, waiting for Daddy to get home!
The evening was unusual, but it such a better way! I think I may have mentioned before, I am not gifted in the craft department. Crafts are not something I do often, nor is it relaxing for me as I tend to hyperventilate and perspire when engaging in such activities. (And I am not a sweater, btw!) But every so often the two craft brain cells I do have connect, spark, and I get a great idea! This week that very thing happened, and the kids and I made non-edible ornaments and painted them. We had such fun making them! Here they are:
