Why You Can’t Walk Barefoot In My House

Okay…

So we have to back up a little here…

The other day I came home from the shop and went into my bedroom to change my clothes.

For some unknown reason that I can only attribute to the fact that God takes care of babies and fools :: HINT: I’m not a baby :: I look down.

And there it is.

ME: Spaz?Spaz??SPAZ!!!!!!!!
SPAZ: Are you calling me?
ME: UM.. yea.. can you come here please?
SPAZ: What?
ME: (pointing to the floor) Can you get rid of THAT please?

NOTE: THAT being a mouse

SPAZ: Oh. Ok. I’ll get a tissue
ME: Ok.
SPAZ: What do you want me to do with it?

CONFESSION: I couldn’t watch

ME: I don’t know.. throw it outside?
SPAZ: I’m going to have to drown it
ME: WHAT??
SPAZ: (so matter-of-fact that I would be scared if it wasn’t for the mouse) Leese, it’s still alive.. you can’t make it suffer
ME: WHAT??? No, it isn’t
SPAZ: Uh-huh! Look at it.

Against better judgment, I did look. And he was right. OMG was he right!

ME: Well… well… I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT.. just do what you got to do
SPAZ: (all proud of himself for being the man of the house at that moment) Ok. I’ll just drown it in the bucket like dad did..
ME: WHHHAAATT????
SPAZ: Hm. Guess I shouldn’t have told you that, huh?

So he did what he did :: and probably called the critter BUBBA while he was doing what he had to do :: and I promptly had a self induced black out so I wouldn’t remember it.

The following night.. at about 2am.. I had to go to the bathroom. I was in one of those not-even-awake stupors so instead of my usual jump up and down REALLY hard while turning on all the lights routine, I just made my way down the 4ft of hallway to my bathroom.

And stepped on something.

Squishy.

I squealed like I never heard another human being squeal before ending with CHIEF!CHIEF!OMG!GETUP!OMG!HELP!HELP!

Chief come running out of the bedroom .. well.. that’s an exaggeration because like I said, it’s only about four feet from my bedroom door to the bathroom and I was only halfway there.. and finds me leaning up against the wall with my foot up almost sobbing OMG!OMG!OMG!

He had the good sense not to chastise me on the whole “.. taking the Lord’s name in vain” thing.

“Good God, woman, what are you screaming about?”

Actually, that’s not what he said but I KNOW he was thinking it!!

OMG! I stepped on a mouse.. I can feel it between my toes! Get it off! Get it off! GET. IT. OFF!

All of a sudden he starts getting hysterical and I tell him that he has every right to laugh AFTER he gets the mouse off of me.

Through the gasps of air he’s trying to breath.. he points to my foot and tells me that it isn’t a mouse.

OF COURSE, IT’S A MOUSE YOU DUMBASS! NOW GET IT OFF!

He swears that it isn’t but reaches out to my foot and takes off the offensive mass.

I don’t know what it is, he tells me. Look at it.

OH.

HELL.

NO!

There is no way in hell that I was going to fall for one of his “Let’s Make Leese Squirm” bits at 2am.

I tell him that he tells me that, honestly, it isn’t a mouse.. he doesn’t know what it is and it’s blue.

Blue?

BLUE?

I slowly open my eyes to look and it’s part of a stress ball that Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy had ripped apart like.. three weeks ago.

Where it came from and how it got to where it was is still a mystery but BIG SIGH OF RELIEF.. it wasn’t what I thought it was so I could die happy.

Apparently, the whole Get-A-Kitty plan is working out. Not for the mice.

So last night, we’re in bed watching Dexter :: great show.. you have to watch! :: and I reach over to grab my cup of coffee on the window sill and again.. for some unknown reason that I can only attribute to God looking out for the fool that I am, I look down and see a dead mouse next to my bed.

ME: Um, Yo.. Chief?
HIM: Hmm?
ME: There’s a dead mouse next to the bed, can you get it?

To his credit, he didn’t wait until Dexter was over.. but got right up and took care of the issue.

So what’s this all got to do with the title of this post?

Heh.. well.. if you haven’t figured it out yet then you may need to suck up some of that herbal stuff that makes your brain work.

This afternoon I came home from the shop and was getting the laundry together. Next to my side of the bed, there is a little hamper type thingy that I use for my own socks and underwear. Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy was apparently playing the stuffed animal that has no stuffing left next to the bed.

I step on in while I was leaning over to get my little hamper type thingy .. barefooted.. and I stepped on something cold. And wet.

Not really knowing WHAT it was but knowing that it wasn’t GOOD.. I did the whole “EWWWWW!!!” thing and shook my foot.. releasing what was stuck to it.. which was a cold.. wet.. dead.. mouse.

A cold.. wet.. dead.. mouse that flew into the wall and bounced back onto the floor.

The scream was real.

Ernie, The Terrorist Puppy.. deciding that he was going to get into a WHOLE lot of trouble for leaving a cold, wet, dead mouse next to my bed for me to step on… figured his best course of action was to get rid of the evidence. So he grabbed it and dived under the bed with it.

Where it still remains.

I called Chief up and told him what happened and the silence told  me everything I needed to know about his man.

He REALLY wanted to laugh his ass off but knew that that was NOT the appropriate thing to do so instead went into an analysis of it’s :: and others :: demise… that being that the kitten is getting the mice and Ernie, the self absorbed, narcissistic, self fuck that he is.. is taking them from her.

My psyche is scarred beyond repair, I think.

So I went ahead and dug my Burberry plaid rain boots out of the closet and will be wearing them through the house from now on.

Cause, yknow.. they’re rubber so I can just hose them off!!

Mouse-Less… Or So I Thought

Last night.. when I was still giving Chief the cold shoulder.. I was in the bedroom watching :: what the hell was I watching? :: something when I heard Chief and Spaz in the kitchen and something BIG move.

He comes into the bedroom and tells me that while he was on the desktop computer, he saw a mouse stick it’s head out from under the fridge so he pulled it out and it dived through the 1″ hole he had drilled for the ice cube maker’s water line.

Actually.. he said.. there were two. So he put a sticky trap under the fridge and moved it back.

I HATE STICKY TRAPS.

I may not want mice in my house but I have heard horror stories of what happens to mice on sticky traps and really, I don’t want the things to suffer. I just want them to live a nice, quiet, happy life somewhere else.

Preferably the annoying neighbors next door.

He tells me at the VERY FIRST SIGN that the sticky trap was inhabited, to come get him where ever he was at and he’d take care of the situation. Shop.. Bathroom.. Shower.. anywhere.

He’s trying to get back on my good side.

Ok.

So this afternoon, I get home from working my shift at the shop.. stop at WalMart for another hamper and then to the super market to pick up pork chops and egg noodles for dinner.

NOTE: The chicken was fantastic, btw.

When I come into the house, Spaz is right up on me telling me that we don’t have a mouse issue anymore.

ME: Um.. why’s that?
SPAZ: Because Ernie caught one.
ME: (gulp) WHAT?
SPAZ: Yea. I saw it on the floor in the hallway and thought it was poop but when I picked it up it had a tail. It was wet and it’s head was a little flat.

Ordinarily, I become HIGHLY upset at the thought of Spaz growing up to be a serial killer but right then and there I almost fell on my knees in praise of the good Lord above that this kid isn’t afraid of picking up a dead mouse.

NOTE: Um.. I’m just going to pretend that I DIDN’T give thought that he did anything else to the mouse between picking it up and putting it in the trash can.

So I mention to him that his dad told me he saw TWO mice last night.

SPAZ: No details! No details! I’m not giving you any details! It’s just gone. That’s all I’m saying about it.

I have to tell you that I was relieved. Almost a little giddy. So I call Chief up and tell him about the mouse and that I couldn’t believe that ERNIE caught it. Like, was this little dog SO outdone that there’s another “baby” in the house that he’s going to hunt mice too?

Chief starts laughing and says something about how Ernie likes to chase things and that he was probably just trying to play with it and accidentally killed it… like the guy from Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men”.

ME: Oh, btw. Spaz told me about last night and the other mice
CHIEF: See! See! I TOLD him not to say anything! What was I suppose to do, hun? Just put it in the trash aliv
ME: Um.. Uh.. Spaz only told me that there was another one and that he wasn’t going to give me any details.
CHIEF: Crap. I just busted myself.

But I don’t care.. because, you see, I’m giddy because my problem was solved. The two mice that I had in my house are gone. I don’t have to worry about turning on every single light in the house and stomping a few hundred times to scare them before walking anywhere in the house… I don’t have to worry about one running around in the bathroom while I’m using the facilities.. and I certainly don’t have to worry about peeing in a Dunkin’ Donuts cup in the middle of the night because I’m too afraid to risk running into on in my pajamas.

All is right in my world.

Until.

Until.

UNTIL…

I come into my bedroom, sit on my bed and fire up the laptop.

Bella is laying down on the floor on the door side of the bed and Ernie takes refuge under the bed on the window side of the bed near the radiator.

I hear him tearing something apart.. Ernie is ALWAYS tearing something apart.. so I tell him to knock it off. Whenever Ernie is reprimanded, he goes into “grovel” mode.. so he jumps up on my bed with his head down and belly crawls so close next to me that he’s almost under my t-shirt.

And then I hear it.

And so does Ernie.

The distinctive tearing of something somewhere under the radiator.

His ears perk up and he dives from the bed and tries to force his nose between the wall and the radiator.

I don’t want to look. I’m ready to put a ice pick through my inner ears.

There’s another mouse.

IN MY BEDROOM.

A very active mouse from the sound of it.

Ernie’s presence means that the damn thing has quieted down and for all I know, made it’s way around the room and out the bedroom door.

But I will tell you this.

I am NOT getting off my bed until Chief comes home… in about 3 hours..

Oh.. and Ernie can forget about his damn kisses!!

Hello Kitty Delayed

… so I texted Bird yesterday suggesting that she bring the kitten over after I return home from the shop. I explained that I thought it would be less traumatic for the kitten if she brought her over and hung out awhile before leaving.

I was actually having nightmares of ripping this kitten from her home and chucking her in a strange environment. Poor, frightened, shaking kitten in a strange place with strange people.

Yea. I know. I can go extreme.

Anyway.. while waiting for her to respond :: she’s a don’t-get-up-until-2pm person :: I tell Chief what my plan is:

HIM: You mean you’re letting someone in our house?

ME: Well.. considering what HER house looks like, um.. yea

HIM: That bad huh?

ME: You have no idea

Before I go further, let me explain that I’m not talking cosmetics here. I could care less if you have a threadbare carpet or holey couch. I’m talking clean. And hers isn’t :: what it is with his family and having a clean house???? :: and even thought I’m always bitching about MINE, believe me, it’s way more then fine compared to Bird’s.

Anyway.. she texts me back and says that she’s really feeling under the weather. She thinks she picked up a cold so could we do the Kitty Exchange tomorrow [today].

No problem. Really, what am I going to do? Force her?

So fast forward to about 10:00pm last night and me and Chief are watching Dexter. We heard Bubba go into the bathroom and when he came out he knocked on our bedroom door.

He asked us if there was anyway we can get the kitten faster. I was like, “why”.. and he said that while he was sitting on the toilet, the mouse came into the bathroom and started hopping around all over the place because of the combination of seeing Bubba on the toilet and not knowing where to go to hide.

He also said he saw it :: them? :: running across the kitchen floor but he didn’t want to say anything because he didn’t want to scare me.

Great.

Nice.

Wonderful.

I kept my legs crossed all night because I was too scared to get up and go into the bathroom and when I finally did go, I made sure Chief stood outside the open door.

We are getting the kitten today… one way or the freakin’ other!!