Someone asked me a month or so ago what I would blog about once RM moved out. 'My mom' was the obvious response; I didn't know at the time that I'd get hit in the @$$ by an SUV--that, thankfully, doesn't happen every day. Thing is, there's always something. Take this morning's adventure, which began just after 5am, when I noticed something different about a pair of trousers I'd hung on the door of the linen closet in the upstairs hallway so their wrinkle would fall out a bit.
This adventure is brought to you by A.'s internal monologue:
"That's quite a piece of fur. Good job, Gracie... I really thought you were shedding less with the cooler weather. How'd it fly all the way up there? Wait a minute... that piece of fur has eyes. I don't recall taking any acid last night, and yet, I must be tripping--there's no way a mouse could have gotten up there, much less stayed up there. And yet, that does look like a mouse... what did I have for dinner that I might be tripping... wait a minute, is that a bat? How did it get in here? Yup, those are wings. Breathe. There's a m*-f*ing bat napping on your wool-silk trousers. Now what? What if it's rabid? Quick, think of something before it wakes up. Trash receptacle. That'll do. Okay, now enclose it... slowly, don't wake it up. Okay, quicker than that... just do it...
...okay, it's trapped... and it's up. It's squirming. Breathe. Now get it off the door without letting it escape. It must be a bit disoriented. Open the closet door, get a backpack or something to cover the rubbish bin. Breathe. SHUT THE F* UP, GRACIE! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M BUSY? Okay, open the closet door without creating a space between the door and the rim of the bin... get a bag... that bag will work. Now how to trap it? Okay... slowly... wait until it moves away from the rim... breathe... you can let it out the window up here... no, it's less risky to take it downstairs and let it out the door... just move fast, you don't have all day... I'M SORRY, I THINK YOU'RE SAYING 'MEOW' BUT ALL I HEAR IS 'CAN I HAVE A BEATING?' WELL, UNFORTUNATELY, I'M BUSY.
...okay, the bin is covered... run downstairs... open door... oh, f*, the alarm... never mind, just close the door. Okay, it's moving away... retrieve rubbish bin and backpack. You did it."
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2 comments:
good job! i remember having a mouse run through the house when I was pregnant with the oldest. guess who took care of the mouse, not the hubby or the dog. and then that same person took care of the mouse family living in the grill. what a site to see, preggo woman wins mice lose.
OMG, I think I told you about the bat in my house earlier this year, and another facebook contact just had a Christmas bat... I feel so bad for them because bat colonies have been hit with a fungus (that you probably already know about) that wakes them up from hibernation and they seem to be disoriented (e.g., in my miniblinds, then chasing me around the house like a scooby-doo episode; or your trousers...)
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