Well this is the post I was hoping I would never have to write. The one thing I dreaded most about changing up my life, moving in with someone after years of singlehood and living in the country:
I met a mouse in my house.
It started off as a nice, cozy Saturday morning. I was on the couch, drinking a nice hot mug of coffee, wrapped in my heated throw, still in my jammies and watching "Law & Order." Then it happened.
Mickey, my 18-year-old cat, came running around the corner, followed closely by Elliott Stabler, my other kitty. I started to say, what is going on, then I knew what was going on. The biggest mouse I have ever seen was running from under the TV directly toward me under the couch.
I did what I felt was the most appropriate and logical response. I pulled the throw over my head and screamed at the top of my lungs.
Roland came running into the living room asking what was wrong. He said later he thought I was being murdered. Well in a sense, my innocence was. Never again will I live in peaceful splendor that I can walk anywhere in my house without my glasses, shoes or lights on and not fear encountering a rodent. But I'm getting ahead of my story.
As the cats were making weird chattering noises and darting back and forth, and Jack started to bark, the mouse ran back under the TV stand. Roland yelled at me to go get him the broom so he could trap it. I asked him if he had lost his (insert horribly bad word here) mind??? I was not getting off that couch.
After a few minutes of me screaming, the cats hunting and Roland slapping his magazine on the floor - I think to scare the mouse but instead Elliott Stabler ran away - he said he had lost the mouse. And he left! He had to go to work and left me all alone in that house with a GIANT mouse wandering loose.
I bravely ventured to the bathroom, somehow feeling if I had a shower and was dressed in real clothes and shoes, I would intimidate the mouse into staying away from me. As I was in the shower I could hear the cats running up and down the hallway. I decided the bottom of the door had a big enough opening for that mouse to get through. So I got out of the shower, shoved towels under the door to block it from getting in and got back in the shower. It wasn't until later that it dawned on me the mouse could have already been in the bathroom with me . . .
We never did find that mouse. But Elliott Stabler had been sitting in our mud room for the last week or so staring intently at the pipe coming up through the floor to the furnace. Roland had cleaned the whole room but Elliott Stabler still kept sitting there. Now I know why. He was waiting for his buddies...