There really are only two ways to get me to run and jump and scream like a girl. One is to dangle beautiful jewelry over my head, the other is to introduce a non domesticated rodent.
Yesterday, due to the Tornado, and the subway shutdown.We both worked from home. When I say “worked” I mean, Arch worked and Jack and I rocked out, did some physical therapy, tried to eat some tater tots (unsuccessfully I might add) and napped. During one of Jack’s naps I was sitting quietly on the couch, computing, when out of the corner of my eye I spied a Grey little BEAST. I promptly, ran, jumped on the bed, and screamed like a girl.
Arch laughed. It was awesome to have my fear taken so seriously…
I suspect that the mice have invaded because the smell of Hollis has vacated. I also think they have invaded because Jack is not known for putting cheerios in his mouth; rather, he’d prefer to sprinkle them on the floor. Lovely little mousy lunch for all.
It’s weird that I am this freaked out by mice. We had a lot of Gerbils and Hamsters and Frogs and Lizards and Snakes etc growing up. My Gerbils were creatively named, including Kira and Jen and the Gerbil that tried to swallow my little brother’s pinky who I believe I called Otis. I did “accidentally” feed Jen the Gerbil, to my cat, Janet.
I came from a family that loved animals (despite evidence to the contrary, sorry Jen!) We had a very robust pet cemetery in our backyard and I learned early that pets die and they usually do it when you’re least prepared to deal with it. As I watch my husband struggle with the metaphorical loss of Hollis (his first real pet)*, I wonder how Jack will deal with his very first pet going to that dog park in the sky.
*Grieving Hollis has not gotten Arch off the hook with the Mouse killing. There is a scary amount of glue traps in our apartment right now.
