Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Twas the month before Christmas and all through the house...

Everyone was screaming because of that pesky ole' mouse!

Gracee ran screaming out of the bathroom this morning...
"Mommy... Mommy! Something is scratching on the bathtub!
I am NOT going pee in there!"

I walk inside and take a peek. Sure enough... there is a tiny little mouse stuck inside the bathtub. Hmm...How am I going to get him out of there? For a moment I thought about just leaving him there until Tommy arrived home. But then again... that would be at least another 10 hours. That's a long time for him to devise an escape plan. So I called Tom at work to see if he had any ideas.

"Go hit me with an old mop!"

"Hit him with my mop? I can't do that! That's just too cruel."

"Do you want him getting out?


"Do you want to catch him with your hands?"

"NO! Definitely NOT!"

"Then go hit him with an old mop."

Noah was standing next to me soaking in every detail of our conversation. It didn't take long before he was ready to go to battle. He immediately came to my rescue.

"I'll do it Mom! I'll get him for you!"

We grabbed an old empty mop handle from the closet and in we went. Noah smacked and smacked and smacked the bathtub. The poor little mouse ran up and down... back and forth... dodging every blow. Noah tried for several minutes, but unfortunately missed every hit. Meanwhile, Tom is still waiting on the phone...

"You're gonna have to do it! Just grab the mop and hit him!"

"I told you, I can't do that!"

He laughs... "Yes you can!"

About that time, Noah throws one last blow and the mouse lets out a screech.

Noah yells..."Yay! I got him."

I slowly lean over the bathtub to take a look. Hmm...Well... almost! The mop caught the very end of the mouses tail. Now his poor little legs are running as fast as they can go... and yet he isn't going anywhere. The kids laugh for a moment as he does his morning workout on our homemade treadmill. Then Noah picks up the mop and off he goes... like lightening! ZOOM! He runs up the side of the tub and slides right back down! He looks to the right and looks to the left... Yep... he's surrounded. So he crawls up under a washcloth.

"Dana... You are gonna have to hit him."

"I can't do it... He's hiding under a washcloth because he's scared."

"That's good! Now you can hit him. We can't have him loose in the house....crawling all over our food. Now just hit him!"

"But... he's scared!"

Through laughter..."Will YOU just hit him!"

I raise up the mop and with one swift blow... I smack the washcloth. I hear a tiny little squeak, followed by several more little squeaks.
A tear rolls down MY cheek.

"Tommy! He's crying! I made him cry."

Again he laughs at me! "Well...What did you expect him to do? You'll have to hit him again!"

I sadly look at him. I don't want him to suffer anymore. So I hit him again. The next sound I hear is EVERYONE saying... "Eeewwww!"

Problem solved!

Tom laughs hysterically at me as I say..
"Oh.. It is SO not funny!
That was the most barbaric thing I have ever had to do!"

"You did fine!"

"Whatever.. Just so you know....I am NOT getting him outta there!"

Ugh.... I may NEVER take a bath again!


Paige said...

Bless your heart! I would have done the same thing. Have a great week!

MrsAshley said...

That may have been the funniest thing I've ever read! Oh bless your heart though! That must have been so hard to do, I don't know if I could have. You're a strong woman!


Pam, mom, honey, said...

you are braver than me. we live on a military post and several years ago my kids told me there was a rat in my flower bed. so i called DH in frantic mode (remember it was outside) so DH comes home laughing at me and says get my BB gun. i did not know his BB gun was the size of a riffle. then i cried because i did not want him to shoot it. i did snap a picture of him holding the dead mouse with his BB rifle gun in his army uniform.
i say get a cat next time, call a neighboor and ask to borrow one. although we use to live on a farm and my cat would let a mouse walk past her