Saturday, September 10, 2011

Irrational Fear? I Think Not

On any given night at half past 9 Frazier can be found in the middle of our king sized bed, legs stretched up into the air and head resting comfortably on a pillow. You can't move him or shake him from his slumber. If an intruder were to enter our house he wouldn't even raise an eye lid while they cleaned us out. Last night Frazier leaped from the bed and let out a low grumble of a growl. He started poking his nose around the armoire in our bedroom so Matt got out of bed to investigate. If something could wake up old Rip-VanBoxer it was worth at least checking into. Both Matt and Frazier were on the ground with their butts in the air looking underneath the armoire. By this time Frazier was getting pretty pumped up and insistent that there was something under the armoire. Matt said it was just a ball and started to come back to bed, but Frazier wouldn't let it go. Matt went to get the flashlight that we keep in our closet--in case the Boogey Man shows up-- and he did one more peek just for good measure.

I'm going to pause here and explain my two semi-irrational fears in life. Semi-irrational fear number 1 is a bird flying through my car window while I am driving--it happens, it happened to a girl I work with. Semi-irrational fear number 2 is a mouse building a house in my shoe.

Matt sat back up, looked me dead in the eye and said "Its a mouse". There was a mouse in my house and it was creepy close to where I keep my shoes.

Matt said he would be right back. In half hysterics that my semi-irrational fear was coming true--I said he couldn't leave me alone with a mouse. It took a lot of convincing from Matt that the mouse was tiny and actually kinda cute--he was described as soft and grey with a tiny button nose. I held on tight to Frazier while Matt went to gather Mouse Trappin' Materials. He returned with a plastic flower pot, 4 wood 2x4's and a metal hanger. He said the plan was to box him in, hook him out with the hanger and to trap him with the flower pot. He then started to hand me the flower pot--to do the trappin'--I said he had lost his mind and pulled the blanket up to my neck.

Matt did a looky-loo under the armoire to check on the mouse's position. He jumped back so fast I almost wet myself. He was nose to nose with the mouse, which startled everyone. The mouse took off out the back side and scurried along the baseboard and up the wall. I start screaming in a whisper--so as to not wake the baby--THERE IT IS, THERE IT IS. Matt, for some strange reason, thought it was crawling on him and started to do the heeby-jeeby dance all over the bedroom. Our 2x4 containing system worked and the mouse retreated back under the armoire. The small, grey, button nosed mouse was in fact a LARGE, BLACK, BEADY NOSED mouse. I married a liar.

Eventually Matt hooked the mouse out and flung it into the middle of the bedroom. They both ran in a few disoriented circles before it was trapped under the plastic flower pot. I stood on the bed jumping up and down shouting EEEEEEEEEE, Matt made a he-man AHHHH sound and baby Clark slept through it all. Matt slipped a hunk of cardboard under the pot so he could carry it out of the house, the mouse ran circles under the pot and I could hear its creepy little rodent feet scratching along the cardboard--gives me the whole body shakes.

The night ended with me peering through the window at a silhouette of Matt tossing the whole contraption into a dumpster. I saw the pot, the cardboard and the mouse all separate mid-air as they were humanely heaved into the dumpster.

And that's how a mouse nearly built a house in my shoe.


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