I’m beginning to think these are the end of days.
I saw the first, yesterday, scuttle from under my desk to the door that leads to the cubby beneath the stairs. Instinctively and shamefully, I screamed like the stereotypical mammy as seen on Tom and Jerry. There was much flapping of arms and subsequent shrieking. I startled Daniel so much that he cried.
I calmed down and had a moment of misguided hope. I retrieved my puppy, set her in front of the door the mouse had scampered under, opened it, and jumped up and down, saying, “Get the mouse get the mouse get the mouse- go on, get the mouse! Get it! Get it! Get the mouse get the mouse pleeease get the mouse!”
Kiah sat, tilted her head and stared at me, probably thinking, “And this is the person I have to depend on to feed me. I am definitely screwed.” (To which I respond, “That’s right, bub. And don’t think I won’t trade you in for a cat.")
I called the husband who promised he would bring mousetraps home. He was infuriatingly nonchalant about the whole situation.
“It’s that time of year. The weather gets cold so they come indoors. I’ve heard of three other people at the firm who have had mice in their homes. Plus, the kids leave the door open all the time.”
Yet, his assurances subdued me, and I didn’t even blow a gasket when he forgot to pick up mouse traps on the way home from work.
Then, late last night, while writing at the computer, I saw a shadow from the corner of my eye behind the paint can in the office doorway. (There’s really no good explanation for why there’s a paint can in the office doorway.) With bated breath, I waited, and sure enough, a mouse that looked a lot like the one I saw earlier ran from the paint can to the closet.
I screamed like Janet Leigh in Psycho. The mice are upstairs. HOW?
When, of its own volition, the scream subsided, I was met with dead silence. Children slumbered peacefully. Husband- alarmingly quiet.
I am all alone in this world.
It could be worse. It could be rats, or snakes, or zombies.
Zombie mice.
It is totally the end of days.
2 comments:
I'd be living on top of the kitchen table until all evidence of rodents was gone.
We had rats in the garage once, and that nearly sent me over the edge - and they weren't even in the house.
We lived in the upstairs of an apartment building - a brick apartment building. And there was a mouse under our chaise lounge. (you would think things with the prissy name chaise should NOT have mice near them). Anyways I lifted up the chaise lounge cause my cat was acting weird. Thought a toy was under there. WRONG it was a MOUSE! here's the killer. She just sat there my CAT just STARED AT IT. I told her she was pathetic and a sad excuse for a cat - I must say I am still mad at her and this was over 7 months ago. LOL
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