Last week was so serious, and this week I want to start the week of with some fun we've been having around our house. Nearly every year for Christmas at my dad and Danette's house, one of their dogs gives me some sort of mouse. Sometimes it's a mouse ornament; sometimes it is a cat toy. Each year it takes me back to a summer day in high school when I went toe-to-toe with mouse for the very first time (and hopefully the last time) in my life.
I woke up and went downstairs to watch some TV while my dad and Danette were both at work. Our dogs, Agatha and Murphy, were home with me, too. Murphy was a little dog, but Agatha was a bigger dog full of shaggy black hair. As I was sitting watching TV, Agatha came stumbling into the room, walking around the room in a really unusual way. She was sort of stomping her feet on the ground if you can imagine that. I kept hearing a "meep, meep, meep" but couldn't figure out what it was. Agatha laid down and started pawing at one of her feet, and the "meep, meep, meep" got louder. All of the sudden, it hit me - there was a mouse stuck to Agatha's foot!! My dad had put one of those sticky pads down behind our washer, and the mouse must have gotten stuck on it. Then, in her curiosity, Agatha must have been swiping at the mouse and gotten the entire pad-with-mouse stuck to her paw. SICK!
I was F-R-E-A-K-I-N-G out! Immediately I started sweating and panicking, and frantically called my dad at work. He picked up the phone, and I was crying and telling him what was going on with Agatha and the mouse. I have no idea what was going on at work, but he said, "Amy, I can't handle this right now!" I was so mad/freaking out still that I hung up and called Danette at work. I had her emergency paged, knowing that I would scare her, but what else was I to do. Agatha was in a panic, and I was losing it. I could feel the lump welling up in my thoat, and I was close to losing it. I had no idea I was so grossed out by mice! Danette quickly called me back, and I explained the situation. She asked if I would be able to cut Agatha's hair away from the sticky pad to release it from her paw. (My stomach just turned over as I remembered this next part). I got out the scissors and pulled the sticky pad away from Agatha's foot (shiver). I was SO scared that I was going to accidentally cut the mouse while I cut her hair (SICK!). I began trimming the hair little-by-little, and Danette stayed on the phone with me like a 911 operator during an emergency situation. As I cut more and more hair, I could see that poor mouse's body smashed against the sticky pad, but it's little eyes were so scared and the "meep, meep, meeping" continued. I was crying a lot harder by now! I felt so bad for that little mouse. As I finally cut the last few strands of hair, Agatha was free. Now it was just me and that poor mouse. I was shivering and crying and holding back from throwing up as I ran the mouse-and-sticky-pad combo to the doorway and chucked it into the street. Classy - I know. Once Danette knew that Agatha and I were safe, she hung up the phone. I think I stayed in the house all day, afraid to look into the street to see that poor, sad, scared little mouse lying there.
Side note - I still struggle to this day with killing anything. If I find a spider in our house, I turn a container upside down on top of the spider and wait for Ryan to get home so that he can kill it.
My dad called later that day and was CRACKING up! He apologized for hurrying off the phone but was laughing about what Agatha and I endured earlier that day. When he got home from work, I think my dad disposed of the mouse properly. Sorry, Mouse. :(
So back to the present, I get a mouse every year in remembrance of that horrible day. This year I got a particularly nasty mouse. This one was so drab with rubbery, gross skin. When you squeeze this mouse, it feels like there are guts inside it. NASTY.
Noah was being fussy one night, and I remembered this game that he likes to play at the library. We say, "Little mouse, little mouse, are you in the red house?" You pick up the red house and say, "Nooo. Little mouse, little mouse, are you in the blue house?" And the game continues until you uncover the mouse. Noah gets so excited each time we play at the library, so I grabbed the mouse from upstairs and started playing the game with his toys.
The next morning when Noah woke up, the first thing he said was, "Hi Mouf! Hi Mouf!" He totally remembered his little buddy from the night before. Ryan put Mouf on Noah's high chair tray, so when I sat Noah down for breakfast, he pointed and yelled, "Mouf!!!" but shuddered away from him. This love/hate relationship continued for days. Noah always wanted to know where Mouf was and wanted him near but not so near that it invaded Noah's space.
Even Kya tolerates Mouf