Tuesday, November 6, 2012

The Day I Screamed Into My Hands

Before I begin this week's post I just wanted to say thank you for the comments last week regarding my son avoiding his naps.  And also I jumped the gun because he's napping again.

Last week I was perusing the world wide web minding my own business when I felt something on my stockinged foot.  Please let that be a computer cord I felt I thought to myself.  It wasn't.  Instead it was this...
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Remember when I did this same spacing a few weeks ago?
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But that time you scrolled down only to see a picture of a harmless ladybug?
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Well, friends, this was no ladybug.
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A. mouse. ran. on. my. foot.  I get chills every time I think about it.   My kiddos were napping so I had to scream into my hands.  Nothing is grosser than having a mouse run across your foot.  Unless a mouse dragging a black widow dragging a snake dragging a cockroach ran across your foot.  That would be grosser.  More gross.  Whatever.  What is it about little creatures that are so terrifying?  If a much larger animal, say a dog, ran across my foot I wouldn't be disgusted at all.  Surprised that a dog was in my house under my computer desk, maybe, but not disgusted.   As soon as my kids woke up I said, "we're going to grandma's."  To which my son replied, "Grandma's!  Yeah!"  And there we spent the next two days until the mouse was caught/killed. 
 
Even now as I am typing this my feet are crossed Indian style on my chair.  I don't think I can ever put my feet on the floor again.
 
 
 
 

1 comment:

  1. I have an immobilizing fear of rodents. It's irrational, I know, but I can't help it. Last Christmas we found a dead mouse on our dining room floor (it's a long story). I screamed frantically! That room was never the same to me. I hate their tails most.

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