Several weeks ago, Big C and I were watching American Idol when I saw something scurry across the living room floor. “Oh my gosh C, I just saw a mouse or a frog or something!?!?”
“Whatever Ellie, you are just seeing things because you’re crazy”
Yup that’s me. Sometimes I like to make up critters in my home for a little excitement. Insert your sarcastic reading voice here.
I go on to say lots of mature things like “Nuh uh. I’m not crazy. I saw it butthead.” You get the drift.
Well, the show ends and C goes to the bedroom to watch something else whilst I watch Glee. Scurrying animal returns and now I am sure we have ourselves a mouse. I delicately yell for C to “GET IN HERE AND PROTECT ME FROM THIS TINY TINY FIELD MOUSE”.
C comes in armed with his work gloves and a broom. Not sure what’s about to happen but I’m sure he means business.
No mouse returns so he takes off his accoutrement and proceeds to enjoy the Glee with me. Stuart Little almost runs across C’s foot at this point and he finally agrees that we have an unwelcome guest. I begin to say more mature things like “I told you I wasn’t crazy. I don’t know why you doubt me.” I should win a maturity award.
So little mouse is under our chair at this point. C turns the chair upside down and it runs under THE VERY COUCH UPON WHICH I PERCH PEOPLE!!!!! C is all “Get off the couch and help me Ellie”. And I’m all “ARE YOU CRAZY? NO WAYS!!”
I arm myself with the broom and C turns the couch upside down and tells me to hit it or at least watch which way it goes. The mouse runs towards me and I jump on our end table. “Which way did it go Ellie?”
“I think it ran into your office” I reply. “What do you mean you think? I told you to watch it” C says. “I can’t see through walls C!!” I say calmly. Yeah calm, right.
C goes into the office and turns that room upside down to no avail. Stuart has retreated. Let me just say that sleep tonight is not going to come easy because as we all know, mice love to crawl all over your face and stuff while you’re sleeping :)
C being the good husband to a crazy neurotic wife, youtubes a video of homemade mouse traps. He constructs a glorious contraption consisting of a bucket with water, wire coat hanger, paint stirrers, and a coke can covered in peanut butter. We set the trap where the mouse first appeared and head off for an uneasy night of sleep.
The next morning, C checks the trap and alas, no mouse. We are getting ready for work when I notice from the corner of my eye, C hitting things in his closet.
“What are you doing?” “It’s in here”, C replies. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S IN HERE?!?!?!”
Yup. Mouse in the closet less than three feet away from me. C hits around some more and Stuart scurries into the water closet.
I won’t go into detail on what happened next. Let’s just say C is down a shirt and the mouse went to be with the nice people at Allied Waste that day.
We always knew that we would learn a lot about each other in the first year of marriage. Lessons learned in this situation: C learned that I don’t want to do things that might result in tiny little mice touching me and I learned that C is a good mouser.
For the icing on the cake of this post, pics of the homemade mouse trap:
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2 comments:
That's quite the craft project! Glad Stuart met his demise and so glad you've started a blog!
That has to be the best story EVER!!! God, I miss y'all!!
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