Last week when B was sick, we pretty much spent the day in bed, ala John and Yoko. B slept, and I kept vigil with the thermometer and extra quilts, but I had my laptop with me and got some mundane data entry done.
I also mentioned that the cats were there (most of the day), all three piled on the bed with their thermal support, and the dogs were sleeping on the floor, surely adding a degree or two to the ambient temperature.
The kids were downstairs watching a movie, I heard a frantic shriek, “Mom! Bub’s got a mouse!” She is the resident mouser, while the other two cats jump on chairs and quiver when they see one of the rodents. In a vain attempt to get the mouse away from her (we are happy to have her kill them, but prefer she doesn’t eat them), the kids chased her upstairs with her kill—that wasn’t completely killed. She ran into our bedroom and under the bed, and promptly let the catch go. She wanted to play with it some more!
I chastised her and told her I would really REALLY like her to find that mouse sometime before bedtime, as I would prefer not to wake up with Mickey on my pillow! She set to work trying to find it, and she did just that. However, when I tried to get it away from her, she jumped up on my bed and let it go in my bed!!
Yes, that was creepy.
At that point, I put all phobias aside and threw the covers back, grabbed the (still very much alive) mouse by the tail, and took it outside.
I’m trying very hard to shed my suburban image. Is it working?
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1 comment:
A mouse in the bed? That's totally creepy, but is Pioneerish.
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