Thursday, September 22, 2011

The Late Night Visitor

Okay, so I think we have established that I live in the woods in a fort. 
This is still true, however I am not the only thing that lives in the woods in a fort because apparently a little brownish gray mouse does too. That's right people I had my first (crossing my fingers and any other body part that I can manipulate that it is my LAST) encounter with a rodent. EEeekk

That is not even the worst part (I know you are thinking how could it get worse?).

I have a cat. His name is Jules but mostly I just call him Meow. It is not the most creative name, I know, but it works. 
He woke me up, like he always does around 4AM last night and I got  up (angrily) and went to feed him. So I am sitting there (my spoiled little kitty likes me to sit with him while he eats) yawning and mentally cursing Meow's existence because I would much rather be sleeping. When all of  a sudden I see something scurry across the room! At first I naively hoped that it was just an abnormally large cricket, but alas my hopes were dashed instantly as the creature ran diagonally toward the litter box (which is the port-o-potty for it's arch nemesis, possibly this mouse knew that my cat is a worthless sack of fur and not to be frightened of his presence?)
I am momentarily tempted to stand on top of the toilet, but I have only been awake for 10 minutes and I fall over when I am not sleep deprived. . .better keep this little adventure on ground level. I was less aware of my cat's lazy attitude then our mousy visitor, so I shouted at him, "Cat you're a cat go and get the mouse! Go go go go!! Go get it!" then slightly less enthusiastically and a bit more confused, "Why aren't you moving? Caattt go get the mouse." 

This is Sir Lazybutt.

Thinks he fits anywhere, except ya know catching mice.

I am not actually throwing him away, he climbed in on his own. . .its not a bad idea though ;)

Bella Loves Meow. True Story.

She must not know about his worthlessness. She is still young, we can't blame her.

Not only did Meow fail to chase the mouse but he looked up at me bored, and yawned. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Then he proceeded to walk to the front door and whine to be let out. So I told him in all seriousness, "You are the World's Most Unhelpful Feline. How could you leave me in here with that thing? Fine! Go! I don't need your help anyway." after I closed the door I mumbled, "I hope it rains on your lazy butt."

And it did, that is how I know God loves me! Winner! 

So I am standing there in my exercise room, peering into the bathroom with hesitancy. I figure I am an adult, I am hundreds of times bigger then this little mouse, I AM IN CONTROL HERE. So I did what any other adult who is larger than a mouse and in control would have done. . .I ran right up the stairs speedy quick and burst into my Mommy's room! I sat on the edge of her bed and related my terrible tale. 

*fun and interesting side note: Mom is completely terrified of mice! I mean big time! She is the woman who jumps on her chair and stays there all day long until her husband comes home to save the day. Interestingly enough my Dad is scared of mice too! She should have asked him about that before they were wed, just sayin'* 

Mom listens and says the only logical solution in times like these, "Let's have a slumber party in my bed!" (My dad had fallen asleep out in the living room watching some sci-fi lame-o show) I quickly take Mom up on her offer and I am about to pull back the covers and get in when I remember my teddy bear (whom I have had since I was 2) and my stuffed unicorn are all alone on my bed!! What if the mouse goes in my room? EEEeeewwwwww!! That is when I got up my courage ran like lightening down the stairs grabbed Teddy and Fluffy and hurled myself back up to Mom's room. 

All in all I have decided two things from this experience: 1. Dad is going to have to pull it together, realize he is the man, and take care of this situation. AND 2. If I could train a mouse to chase me while I am jogging I could shave 8 minutes off my fastest time (they bring out the Olympic Sprinter in me). 

This is not the only strange visitor to make an appearance at the fort! If you are in for another giggle go here and read my little sister's blog about the time a bat made its way into our living room. To this day when I need a pick-me-up I just ask Katie (who is 8 months pregnant) to imitate how a bat walks. Let me just say, "Holy preggo lady walking like a bat. Best. Thing. Ever!" No really, it's what dreams are made of. I promise.

At this point I am thinking about snagging an exterminator, I'll marry him and then never have to worry about little brownish gray unwanted guests again. It's either that or morph into a baby elephant and wear a hat in which the brownish gray mouse will ride around in and teach me to fly. Considering I CAN'T actually become Dumbo. . .I mean he's a boy! Gross! I guess I will start scanning the yellow pages for a man who is not afraid of a little mice-ness. 

Mrs. Exterminator Over and Out

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