I'm popping in tonight to share an update with you. It's been a while since we had to broach the following subject, but I'm keeping you in the know because
a) sympathy is always nice
b) the blog has been super serious lately and I think levity would add a good touch
Last night, I was abruptly awakened by none other than...a squeaking sound. I gasped. I laid in bed quiet as a mouse. (Haha, do you see where this is going?) Then, as if the squeaking wasn't horrifying enough, I heard a little rustling, dragging sound.
I grabbed Aaron's arm with a death hold. "Aaron!" I tried to whisper because we had an overnight guest sleeping in the next room over.
"Huh?" He groggily batted my arm away.
"I think there's a MOUSE in here!"
On perfect cue, more squeaking. This got his attention. He sat up.
"Don't look." He flipped on the lamp. (Of course I looked!)
(At this point in the narrative, you need to know that in January, we had another unfortunate episode of the R.O.U.S. which first visited in August. A mouse actually LEPT out of the silverware drawer as my friend Brittany opened it. We did what every family with a mouse-fearing woman would do: bought poison and old-fashioned traps and sticky traps. Hence, a few sticky traps are still lying around.)
There, upon a dusty and forgotten sticky trap, with half of its nasty little body on and half of its nasty little body off, was a mouse. Loudly sounding the alarm for anyone to save its poor soul.
This is the part where I imagine what dire straights I would be in if I lived by myself. I could never, never, never pick up a mouse trap with a live mouse on it and carry it outside. You can guess who took up that task. (Go Aaron!)
"Make sure you kill it!" I yelled after him as he galloped off into the midnight air.
Of course, for a storybook ending, today I found our dog eating the mouse corpse in the back yard. Perfect.
Come one, come all, share your middle-of-the-night moments of terror. Have you ever been awakened by a mouse? Maybe a snake? (That would make me feel better...)