Wednesday, June 18, 2014

A Mouse Tale

Yesterday morning started like lots of other mornings. Breakfast prepared, school lunches underway. Me, trying to respond to my son's nonstop stream of morning chatter.

Everything took a sudden right turn wait, scratch that, we drove off the bridge and crashed fifty feet into the water when I happened to leave the kitchen and glance behind me.


Under the baseboard of my kitchen was an extremely large mouse. Dead!! Tail, limp. Fur, brown.

I responded like any other reasonable woman of my age, which is to say I started gasping for air and making odd little moaning noises.

"You okay, Mom?" asked my son, who still hadn't spotted it?

"I'm okay, I'm okay." This was said more to convince myself than him.

My daughter appeared on the scene. The mouse situation was revealed.

"I'll pay you guys two dollars each to sweep it into a dust pan and take it outside," I told them.

My daughter, sensing opportunity for negotiation, raised an eyebrow. "Two dollars, mom? Really?"

"Ten," I said, because by this time it was clear I was unable to walk back into the kitchen.


"Yes, each. Just get rid of it."

They went at it with the broom and dustpan. This is where things took a turn for the worse. The mouse, it turns out, was only pretending to be dead. I know this because I heard cries of "It's moving," from the kitchen, while I was curled up in a fetal position on my bed.

My friend, who was staying as a houseguest, came downstairs. "I'll take care of it," she said. She walked into the kitchen with a swagger. Then turned around a moment later, retreated to the dining room and put her head between her knees.

"I thought I could do it," she said.

"Don't feel bad," I said from my new spot on top of the dining room table.

"It was just so brown and big," she said. "I was picturing it as one of those little white lab mice."

"You're mousist?" I asked.

I think she might have glared at me, but it was hard to tell because her head was back between her knees.

My husband, shockingly, informed me he would not leave his meetings to come home and deal with the mouse. By that point it had returned to its semi-dead state so we convinced my son to cover it with newspaper and vacated the kitchen.

By seven o'clock in the evening the mouse had pulled itself together enough to disappear underneath the refrigerator and possibly into the walls.

We're not quite sure where it went. Out of sight, out of mind. Here's hoping it made it back to the great outdoors so that this summer won't unfold to the olfactory strains of Eau de Mouse emanating from the kitchen.


Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

Mousist - funny!
My wife could've handled the mouse. Had it been one of those giant cockroaches however, it would've been a completely different story. She wouldn't have needed the phone - I would've heard her scream from miles away.

bloggingviva said...

Ha ha! I can't believe you didn't catch it!

L. Diane Wolfe said...

I'd be more concerned that it's still somewhere in the house. We had a baby rat snake get into our house one time. I don't mind snakes, but one in the house freaked me out.

Anonymous said...

Feeling queasy just remembering it. -- The mousist house guest.

Beylit said...

I would have screamed as I vacated the kitchen. I know this because we have a rodent problem thanks to living just off a golf course. The view is lovely, the neighbors are less than desirable.
I actually made my husband come home from a war game (by hysterically ranting into the phone and several repeat calls when he told me no) when I trapped a (giant)rat in the spice cabinet (it was on the top shelf and I managed to sweep all the spices into a giant mixing bowl from the other two shelves before I closed and sealed the door.)He told me I was ridiculous when he got home, I told him to kill the damn thing already.

Tonja said...

Great post! I was laughing out loud at the same time I broke out in a panicky sweat. It won't go outside if it's more comfortable inside (and it is). Get sticky traps now!

Last winter I heard a gnawing sound at night. My husband was overseas somewhere for work. I called him to calm me down, and all I got was, "Oh my God! Oh my GOD!!!!" I am pretty sure I hung up on him and then huddled in bed with my kids hoping the nasty creature wouldn't get us in our sleep.

Johanna Garth said...

Alex, our screams were of the quieter variety so as not to wake the faux dead mouse.

Bloggingviva, I know!!! :(

Diane, I am concerned, but not sure exactly how to address those concerns.

Anonymous, I know who you are and you were no help yesterday morning! None!! ;) But I still adore you!

Beylit, you are a braver woman than me. If it were a rat, well, I might be at a hotel right now.

Tonja, my husband is on it, but I'm not sure it will be helpful with the injured mouse. Glad I could give you a Wednesday giggle!

Nicki Elson said...

hahaha...your changing positions killed me.

I wonder what was going on with that mouse that he was going dormant like that. Possum Mouse? Is that a thing?

Here's hoping he's on his merry way and will be warning all his friends about the hideous, um, newspaper covering? they can expect should they ever break into your home.

Neurotic Workaholic said...

I would have been scared too; I remember studying in the college library once and shrieking when I saw a mouse scampering near the bookshelves.

Joanne Noragon said...

There was a mouse in my office at work. I walked out, told my staff to take care of it, and went outside to watch them through the windows. They caught it in the wastebasket and brought it out to show me. I walked around the building and when I went back it all was in order, as if there never was a mouse.

Botanist said...

Oh dear! I guess you don't have cats then.

Not to say that cats would actually keep mice away, but you would have long ago gotten used to dealing with a variety of small animals - dead and alive.

D.G. Hudson said...

That was a great mouse story! Mousist? - nice touch. I had to call hubs to do the deed (kill it or put it in a coma and toss it) when a similar situation occurred.

Block that mouse hole. It's not Beatrix Potter's mice.

Dianne K. Salerni said...

Oh! Ack! And it's still in there somewhere?

I'm worse than mousist. My prejudice is broader. When I saw the back end of some large brown-furred creature caught in the pool skimmer, I had to nudge it backwards with the handle of a net to see what it was.

There were long ears and it was still kicking. So it was a baby bunny.

For a bunny, I reached in with my hand and pulled him out.

If it had been a rodent -- mouse, rat, vole -- I think I would have let it drown and waited for my husband to come home and take it out.

Barbara Watson said...

Eek! I've never had to deal with a mouse inside, just a few dead ones in the yard. Maybe you could borrow a neighbor's cat for a few days? That would solve the problem.

Ella said...

Oh, gosh! I can see it-eeeewww!
We had one come through a vent in our bathroom. I heard this noise and went to look. I started screaming and woke up everyone in the house. It was huge and gray! Oh, gawd...ick! It managed to fold up and go between the cupboards and ?!
I hope and pray your mouse escaped and is headed to Disneyland, world-lol! said...

This was hysterical, Johanna. I'm sorry to laugh, because I'd have been curled in a fetal position too. Perhaps you still are. But really, you've a knack for humor. You need to work that angle. You're very funny. I don't say this to that many writers either; I'm picky about humor. Smiles.

I do hope that creature never returns.

Anonymous said...

I don't like spiders, so a mouse would have really put me into a panic. I hope for your sake it has left your house so that you don't have another encounter with it.

Julie Flanders said...

Mousist totally cracked me up LOL. I hope the mouse has vacated your premises for good. I laughed through this whole post but shouldn't have because if the mouse had been in my kitchen I probably would have ended up out cold on the floor.

Carol Kilgore said...

I remember the first mouse I ever saw. I couldn't believe it had the nerve to come into my house. But I was terrified. I'm so glad husband was home, or I could still be standing on the kitchen table.

jaybird said...

I love your mousist comment! Too funny :) BTW, I pay my girls mad bank for each spider they remove from our house. The bigger the spider, the more money they get. Sometimes, I swear they go outside and bring some big ass spiders in, whenever they want to make extra cash! LOL

In regards to the mouse, the last time I encountered a mouse, the cat and I both wound up on top of my kitchen island, while I screamed like a lunatic for The Husband to come and rescue us!