Now, my entire life has been spent living in a suburban area where everyone will tell you are bound to get a little "field" mouse in your house from time to time. Well for me they were more like Field of Dreams mice . . . for you know that If You Fear Them, They Will Come.
And come they did. . .
To our kitchen breadbox one morning when I went to make toast. . .across our family room while I was watching t.v. . . . to my mother's bedroom slipper when she went to put her foot in it. . .
And then there were always the "presents" the cats would bring and leave at the doorstep, but at least they were dead.
And when I went off to college and moved to an off-campus beach house the saga continued; we set five traps the first night and caught five mice. So we set five more traps the next and caught another five. Our battle with the mice in that house went on for an entire semester. When I went home for a long weekend, I returned to find mice turds on my pillow. I slept on the top bunk.
And after graduation when I moved back home again I awoke one night to feel one crawling in my bed.
The encounters didn't stop after I was married and in a home of my own. I went to the town diner for breakfast with my children and one was crawling on the water fountain. I went to another breakfast joint and one ran across the floor as I entered.
I awoke one night to a terrible racket in the kitchen only to discover that my cat was chasing a half-dead mouse around my kitchen. . . torturing it.
And then there was the movie theater where my husband and I watched a mouse run back and forth across the foot of the screen for a full two or three minutes before we got up and left the theater for good.
So tell me. . . ARE YOU AT ALL SURPRISED THAT A CHANCE ENCOUNTER WITH A CHURCH MOUSE WOULD SEND OUR LITTLE MOM ON SPIN INTO A "TAIL-SPIN" FROM WHICH SHE IS FINDING IT DIFFICULT TO RECOVER???
No, I have nothing against Mickey or Minnie. . . or even Mighty Mouse . . . or Tom . . . or Jerry (whichever one of them was the mouse. . .) but I don't like the other ones. The real ones.
I do not like real ones.
But don't you start thinking I want
any ghosts of dead ones
walking out of the woods at me either. . .
