The day I turned into a pansy

Last Friday when Craig mom came into town we asked her what she wanted for dinner. She always says pizza, because she lives alone and doesn't generally order a whole pizza for herself. The plan was for Craig to order it and pick it up on his way home. However, he left work late and called to tell me that I could order and pick up the pizza or I'd have to make the girls wait and we'd stick with the original plan.

Our girls are great eaters. They'll eat any kind of vegetable (except Lily won't eat squash or zucchini), potatoes, meats, you name it. And pizza of course they love. They usually are in the kitchen asking for dinner before it's finished. So I thought it might just be easier for me to get the pizza instead of waiting and trying to fend off the little savages until Craig got home.

Craig's mom was already there to stay with the girls, so I could go solo and make it a fast trip. I ordered the pizza, waited 15 minutes, and then went to the laundry room to get my shoes on and grab my purse. We've been keeping the door to the laundry room closed because it's off of the garage and it helps to keep the draft out of the rest of the house. So I opened the door and stepped into the room in my stocking feet and, before I could turn on the light, something ran over my foot.

I screamed and turned on the light in time to see a little pink tail disappearing amongst the shoes. A mouse. Ugh. We've had mice in the house before and I just hate it. I hate their little poops and the fact that we have to kill them to get rid of them. The cat is not doing his job, if you ask me. Isn't he supposed to be killing them, or at least scaring them away?

Anyhow, right after I screamed Craig called my cell phone. I picked it up, still amped up from the original fright of having something run over my foot in the dark, and he immediately asked "What's wrong?"

"There's a mouse in here!"

"Where?"

"The laundry roo..AGHHH!"

I screamed again as the tiny mouse ran towards me. Now, I am not afraid of mice. On the contrary, I think they are super cute and if this little guy were to agree to poop outside and not chew on my stuff I'd let him stick around awhile. In fact I used to have a mouse as a pet. I called him Byron and he had no toes. It was the weirdest mouse you ever saw, since he just had little nubs for feet. But he still could hold food in his nubs and eat, so it wasn't a problem. Also I've seen many mice running around in barns and it never bothered me. Yeah, sometimes they'd startle me but I wouldn't go running away screaming looking for a chair to get up on. Cause that's just stupid, they can't hurt me.

So I don't know why I screamed. It was a total wussy girlie scream, and was completely uncontrollable. This mouse was super small. It could have comfortably sat on a quarter and had room left on the sides. It was really cute too, all grey and fuzzy with big black eyes. It saw me and ran, scared to death now that I was shrieking at it. I started to laugh at myself, and I was still talking to Craig, so he got a running commentary of what the mouse was doing with screams interspersed. Also at some point Craig's mom came in to find out what was going on, and when I said "A mouse!" she shut the door so it couldn't get out into the rest of the house. Smart lady.

I told Craig that I was going to catch it, and he said "How are you going to catch a mouse?". I grabbed a paper grocery bag. I opened it up and put it on it's side where I thought the mouse might run next. He'd been running between our shoes and behind the washer, so I put it just past the shoes and them chased him out of the shoes. And the good little mousie ran into the bag.

Quickly I turned the bag upright and folded the top over. I told Craig "I caught him!"

He said "Okay, I'll take care of it when I get home."

"You mean you'll kill it?"

"Well, you can't let it go outside. It will just get back in the house."

"What if I let it go down the street in the woods next to the creek?"

"If that's what you want to do, that's fine."

"It's cold out...do you think it will be okay?"

"It's a mouse. It will be fine. Just hurry up and do it before it chews a hole in the bag."

I ran out to my car and hurried down the street. I pulled over by the woods and opened the bag. The poor little guy was all huddled in the corner, clearly confused. I turned the bag on it's side in the grass and he hopped out and away from me. I got back in my car and headed to the pizza place, feeling conflicted about not killing the mouse but letting him go outside where he might freeze.

I thought about it all the way to the pizza place, and went to grab my purse. Which was in the laundry room. In my haste to set mousie fee I had left without my purse. I sat for a few minutes, thinking of how I could get money without my purse. No solutions came to me. I still had my cell phone, so I called Craig and asked him how far away he was. Turns out he was pretty close, so he met me there (to get two coupons from me) and paid for the pizza.

I don't know what happened to me. This little tiny mouse turned me into a wussy girl, screaming uncontrollably. And I was too wrapped up in it to remember what I needed to do in the first place - pick up a pizza. I'm embarrassed.

I had to call Cheryl and tell her all about it. She laughed, also surprised that I had screamed like that. She told me a similar story involving her dogs and a rat, which made me laugh. Then she said to me "I always say that I'm never as funny as when I'm doing something stupid." I said that was a perfect way to describe how I was feeling, and we both had a good laugh at my expense. Then I told her to please share the story, especially to those who know me, since this was such a break in character for me. She agreed and was still laughing when we hung up.

Aren't friends great?