We have CRITTERS!!!

(© Grandma George)

One thing that people very quickly learn about me is that I am not the park-ranger type who loves all creatures. I'm actually mildly disturbed by some of the less cute members of the animal kingdom. Scaley things are high on that list, as are geese. I know, geese can be cute - but have you ever had one of them chase you? Scarred for life!

By far, my two biggest animalian fears are tiny snakes (yes, I hate them worse than the big ones) and mice. My children will never-in-a-million-years be allowed to own rats, mice or boa contrictors as pets (although, don't big snakes eat mice? That would solve at least half of my problems!) And if they move out of home and buy some, Mama won't come visit.

Hubs laughs at me whenever he hears the original story as to why I'm deathy scared of tiny snakes. Seriously, it's too gross to soil Bloggityville with, but let me just say, there's one scene in the book version of Kiss The Girls that never made it to the movie. And it involves small snakes. And I seriously feel like vomiting even saying that much...auughh. It's the kind of thing that burrows deep inside and you won't ever be able to get rid of it.

So which of my two biggest fears do you think decided to pay me a visit today? I'll give you a clue - it wasn't a snake (little bugger wouldn't still be alive, put it that way!)

Nope, today for the first time since we moved into this house 2 ½ years ago, I saw a mouse.

Correction - Master J did. Because it came flying out of his wardrobe and gave the poor kid a coronary. Not a good situation for an ASD kid who tends to fixate on things. For the next twenty minutes I had to explain to him over and over and over again why he could still sleep in his bed tonight.

Oh, but that's not the end of the story. No sirree.

As I was walking bolting to J's room upon hearing The Scream, thinking he'd, you know, broken a BONE or something, the THING flew between my feet (*hyperventilate*) and took off down the hall.

Straight. Into. My. Bedroom.

I didn't follow it. Call me yeller if you like but I have a family history of heart disease and I didn't want my autopsy to read 'frightened to death by a mouse'. Although, it would be memorable, don't you think? I had an uncle that passed away (many, many years ago) from a blow to the temple with a golf ball and we still bring that up at Christmas :P (It might also explain why no male from my side of the family plays golf now...)

Did you see what I did there? I'm trying to change the subject. I have trouble even finishing a POST about rodents. I'm in serious trouble! Anyway, back to the story...

Master J has found the highest point in the house (the benchtop) and is perched there with his knees drawn up tight, quivering with what is obviously the beginnings of a new found phobia (okay, so my reaction didn't help matters either, LOL). I immediately text-messaged Hubs because, well, that's what you do when you see a mouse, isn't it? He takes care of the mice, I take care of the spiders (who says a man can't have his own critter neurosis? LOL). A marriage made in heaven, obviously.

Fast forward about an hour. I've since picked up the younger two kids from school (J had today off) and we're sitting on the couch in the family room going through their copious school books and projects and handmade Christmas decorations (being that today was their last day of the school year, we're talking most of a small forest worth of paper) and I see a tail. A TAIL. Behind the TV cabinet. Then the tail becomes the whole furry body.

It stares at me. I stare back, suddenly aware of the capacity of my bladder. I summon up most of my courage (weak though it was) and made a face at it. It scampered somewhere underneath the cabinet and I haven't seen it since. I'm not sure whether I should be offended that the sheer contortion of my face scared it off or impressed.

I'm choosing to play a little fantasy on a loop in my head. In it, the rogue mouse is a loner, a James Dean type who likes to live alone. This of course goes against everything I ever learned as a small farm child, but I'm clinging to this nonetheless! It's better than the alternate ending, which is news footage of plague mice crawling over grain in a barn. Because I've seen that in real life too. Mice are communal little buggers, LOL. So I'm sticking with James Dean. I'm also hoping James Dean removed himself from my bedroom and went for a stroll about the house (mouse-sized cigarette danging from it's disgusting little rodent mouth, no doubt) before showing up near the TV in the family room later. The possibility of having seen two completely different mice on the same day would just about make my head explode.

Hubs will be taking a speedy trip to Bunnings (hardware superstore) at his earliest 'convenience' (ie, whenever I break down from the sheer stress of it all) to pick up traps and poison. In the meantime, I actually have to take care of the many stacks of papers and loose stuff in our bedroom and double check that James Dean never made it to the food pantry.

If ignorance is bliss, then I really wish I was still ignorant, LOL.

Cheers,
Lizzie