First there was the Memorial Day Bear. Scared me to death.
Then Saturday night at about 1AM I sat bolt upright in bed because of a sharp pain in my side. Thought I had been Tazed. Sunday morning there are several clear bite marks in a circle of sorts on my left side. Right where my bra strap rests, thank you very much. So something got me and got me good.
And last night I baked cookies. Then Dave came home and sat in the living room. Colleen came home and sat in the living room. I sit closest to the kitchen, because my stitching chair kind of tucks into a corner there, and I kept hearing noises in the kitchen so I asked somebody to go look because I had a lap full of stitching, but they looked at me like I was a lunatic. Finally Dave got up to investigate and said there was nothing. So before I went to bed, I took the cookies off the cooling rack and put them away. Noticed that one was missing, but that’s not unusual. I make awesome chocolate chip cookies.
Evidently a mouse thought so, too. This morning I when went to make my coffee, I noticed a cookie wedged between the stove and the countertop. Half eaten. And that wasn’t a trail of chocolate crumbs on the counter.
Now, as these things go, first you notice one little turd. Then you notice…um…more than one. Yikes. Somebody was having a Mouse Party. So today my goal was to take everything off the counters, clean, clean, clean, and get rid of all of the stuff that shouldn’t be on my counter anyway. Cleaned under the stove top and then moved the stove and cleaned behind it. Then I went to the storage drawer underneath the oven. Did I even think that this could be a perfect hiding place for a mouse? So I started to pull out baking pans and muffin tins and Keeeeripes! There was a mouse running for cover! I screamed and slammed the drawer shut and called Dave on the phone. (Yes – totally ineffective, but better than my first instinct - to dial 911) He told me to cover it with a pot and take the whole drawer outside, but by the time I reopened the drawer, the mouse was gone.
So now I’m upstairs in the office and dreading going back into that kitchen. And I may be opting for take-out tonight. Such drama.
My daughter says it’s kind of like the children’s book:
But with a much darker ending.
(Don’t be groaning. You know you all thought it, too)