Hey all, how are you?
I am in a typical me fashion feeling low again, I imagine the weather changing, a really busy week and general grown up stresses are to blame. I also genuinely think I might be going through early menopause as having had a hysterectomy even with keeping my ovaries I’m at a greater risk of it coming within five years of the op.
I am going to the doctor tomorrow who I’m sure will put his head in his hands when he sees me screaming inside his head ‘not her again!’ Anyway, being a bit low I’ve been feeling massively tired, so much so that this afternoon while snuggling with the boys on the sofa watching ‘Percy Jackson the Lightning Thief’ for the seven millionth time (that’s just today) I fell asleep.
I woke up two hours later (neither boy had moved) to a missed call from one of my best friends so I got up in a slightly dazed and confused state to put the kettle on (who doesn’t need tea when they have just woken up?!) and called her as I walked into the kitchen. Not really aware of what was going on I went to the fridge and heard a noise behind me. This was Alf our black and white cat who is about fifteen and should be acting his age however he still thinks he is a kitten.
The next thing I knew a brown lump fling itself across the kitchen floor. I jumped and almost hit the ceiling and was screaming down the phone to my poor friend who I assume thought I was being murdered or having a serious episode. It was a mouse, a live mouse that Alf was tossing around the kitchen like a juggler. I ran from the room, shut the door and continued to scream down the phone to my friend who by Now was in hysterics. She has been called to help me with spiders before and knows how much of a wuss I am.
So the boys who being boys should have been saying, ‘it’s alright Mum, you may not get to have pretty pink things around the house or the choice of not having bogeys wiped on you but we are boys, we’ve got this’ but they didn’t, they were worse than me and were both river dancing around the living room.
I called Karl, he is an hour away, he can’t help and being honest was about as sympathetic as if I had just slapped him around the face with a dead fish. So I was on my own. I got a little box in the hope of putting it over the mouse and getting it out in the most humane way possible. I opened the kitchen door a tiny bit and Nate my seven year old pushed me though slamming the door shut behind me. Like when they lock you in the room on the Crystal Maze and Just stand outside the door. These two also barricaded the door so the mouse couldn’t get out. Of course that also meant I couldn’t get out either.
The poor mouse was wedged between a wooden toy lorry and a box of recycling bits (my home is never tidy) and I spent a number of minutes dancing around too scared to move anything incase it ran under the fridge. Eventually I had the nerve to move the lorry and quickly dropped the box down but not quite over the whole of the poxy thing so it was struggling to escape staring at me. I managed to sort it and then almost collapsed on the kitchen floor.
I then had to push some card under the box and get the mouse out of the house, around the toy assault course and avoiding Alf who was prowling around unhappy I had screamed at him. I released the mouse (a wood mouse I have identified from google) and then both boys appeared with some cheese. I have no idea what the cheese was meant to do but Nate seemed happy that he could just eat the cheese and they carried on as if nothing had happened.
I may be making a huge meal out of the whole incident but I don’t do pests, I don’t catch things and I certainly don’t stay calm in situations that involve any of them. You should see me if a wasp flies at me, it’s like watching that episode of Friends where Pheobe likes to run.
Anyway today I have learned that I can manage totally on my own, the boys need some better training, I may need to pay for my friend to have hearing aids and that wood mice are very cute as long as they aren’t leaping around your kitchen.