Moment of Panic
First, I have to say a few things to set the stage for why this little episode was especially terrifying. The first reason, naturally, is that I'm absolutely terrified/grossed out/squeamish when it comes to rodents. It's irrational and juvenile--this I know--but I can't seem to get my mind around it. The second thing is that roughly a week ago (I've blocked out the date...), I watched the neighbor's cat catch a mouse outside my dining room window. I didn't stick around long enough to see if he finished the job, but seeing a live mouse tossed in the air outside my window was enough to confirm that there are rodents living near my house. Very near. The last piece of information that contributed to my moment of panic came about two nights ago. We were walking around the yard, finishing up odd projects and planning more for the summer. As we came to the yard closest to our house, Micah pointed at the pile of brush about ten feet from our door and the trash cans full of brush just outside the back door. They were left behind after we removed the bushes from our front garden and we just haven't taken the time to borrow a truck and haul them away. He pointed to them and said, "We need to tackle these soon too. You asked the other day what kind of places mice like to live. These are it. Perfect for mouse nests." Gulp.
Today we spent the entire day outside. The boys had soccer camp this morning. After that we went for an hour-long walk through the neighborhood. After lunch and naps, we were back outside to make sidewalk chalk bombs, baby bottle volcanoes, and run and ride bikes through the sprinkler. We were finishing our jaunt outside by the mulberry tree, picking berries for an experimental batch of mulberry jam. It was then that Thomas came running and screeching into the back of the yard, "Mom! Mom! Come quick! I just saw a baby mouse! It's laying still and not moving--come quick!" Now, I forgot one other piece of information. Henry--for some unknown, unhealthy reason--has decided recently that it's fun to shout, "Mom! I just saw a mouse run behind that bush!" Probably because of some combination of the events described above. Regardless of the reason, I assumed at first that Thomas was pulling a similar prank. I was already scolding Henry in my mind for putting an idea like that in his head. But he was adamant, and dragged me to the back door. My back door. "Look! Mom, it's right here! See!" I had some lesson about how it's not fun to tease people about their fears on the tip of my tongue when I spotted something small. And pink. And baby mouse-shaped. I gasped and took a step back, but since I was home alone with the kids and Cora was getting dangerously close to it, I knew I had to get closer and look. I stepped forward, gritting my teeth, my stomach doing flip flops. I glanced at it quickly, absolutely afraid of what I would see.
"I think you're right, Thomas," I said nervously, taking another step. "It really is--" Wait a minute, I thought. Something wasn't right. It was a little too small. And pink. And plastic.
Oh, the sweet relief! It was a little plastic hamster! Henry had gotten it from his grandparents in a tube of house pet toys. This and a white rat were too life-like for him, and he'd asked me to take them out of the tube. I have no idea where they went after that or how they ended up on the doorstep, but the English language does not have enough words to express my relief!
Needless to say, the brush piles have been bumped to the tippity top of my list of summer projects. I still get chills when I see that picture...
Today we spent the entire day outside. The boys had soccer camp this morning. After that we went for an hour-long walk through the neighborhood. After lunch and naps, we were back outside to make sidewalk chalk bombs, baby bottle volcanoes, and run and ride bikes through the sprinkler. We were finishing our jaunt outside by the mulberry tree, picking berries for an experimental batch of mulberry jam. It was then that Thomas came running and screeching into the back of the yard, "Mom! Mom! Come quick! I just saw a baby mouse! It's laying still and not moving--come quick!" Now, I forgot one other piece of information. Henry--for some unknown, unhealthy reason--has decided recently that it's fun to shout, "Mom! I just saw a mouse run behind that bush!" Probably because of some combination of the events described above. Regardless of the reason, I assumed at first that Thomas was pulling a similar prank. I was already scolding Henry in my mind for putting an idea like that in his head. But he was adamant, and dragged me to the back door. My back door. "Look! Mom, it's right here! See!" I had some lesson about how it's not fun to tease people about their fears on the tip of my tongue when I spotted something small. And pink. And baby mouse-shaped. I gasped and took a step back, but since I was home alone with the kids and Cora was getting dangerously close to it, I knew I had to get closer and look. I stepped forward, gritting my teeth, my stomach doing flip flops. I glanced at it quickly, absolutely afraid of what I would see.
"I think you're right, Thomas," I said nervously, taking another step. "It really is--" Wait a minute, I thought. Something wasn't right. It was a little too small. And pink. And plastic.
Oh, the sweet relief! It was a little plastic hamster! Henry had gotten it from his grandparents in a tube of house pet toys. This and a white rat were too life-like for him, and he'd asked me to take them out of the tube. I have no idea where they went after that or how they ended up on the doorstep, but the English language does not have enough words to express my relief!
Needless to say, the brush piles have been bumped to the tippity top of my list of summer projects. I still get chills when I see that picture...
