It's spring, for cryin' out loud. Leave my house alone!

There is a MOUSE in my utility room right now.

I can hear the little sucker in there rummaging around. I haven't actually seen it, but I can hear it. Scurrying, rummaging, more than likely nibbling and quite possibly doing a rodent version of synchronized ice-dancing. Except I guess technically it would be linoleum dancing.

I am a big girl. I don't mean maturity-wise either. I'm talkin' about the fact that I'm a plus-size woman. I am WAY bigger than a mouse. Yet... just thinking about walking through that utility room to take my plate, empty Ben&Jerry's ice cream container and tea glass to the kitchen makes me want to cry. No kidding.

I can drive a car into an arena filled with other cars whose drivers have one goal: to disable my car and quite possibly hurt me in the process. All in the name of fun, mind you.

I can camp out for three days in the middle of the forest with Magnet Lady, her husband and Paul and endure wild boars in the weeds, newly dug graves and pooing on the river bank.

I can sit up for days on end with one or more sick children who could, at any given time, be ill with a stomach virus, an intestinal virus, an asthma attack or worse, croup. I can sleep sitting bold upright on the sofa with my hand on my child's leg so that the second she moves I will be awakened. Except I wasn't really asleep at all. I was just sitting there in a stupor.

What I'm getting at is this: I am a pretty tough little diva. I'm not a wuss. Okay, I'm not a big wuss.

But please don't make me walk through a room where I know there is a mouse that can ice-dance. Erm....linoleum dance.

Btw, the Ben&Jerry's ice cream was Chocolate Fudge Brownie. And it was yummy.
Unfortunately for my little mousie friend...there is no more left to slurp around on whilst I slumber.

OH
MY
GOSH
Husband
On hands and knees
In my pantry
Attempting to catch mouse
With bare hands
I'm not sure I can stand this

And he laughed and scoffed when I said there was a linoleum-dancing mouse in there. While he set the mouse trap he was mumbling about me hearing things and how silly I am and it's probably a cricket. Then I hear cursing and then much crashing and slinging of the potato bin.....a case of Dr. Pepper went flying.....the curtain to the pantry fell (on top of his head-that made me giggle).......potato.......sweet potato......potato......box of Rice Krispies......ooh bottle of syrup (that's gonna be a mess to clean up).......mouse trap snapping......husband cursing......

If that sucker isn't dead by morning (mouse, not husband) I am loading up the kids in the morning and we are spending the day at the library. They have the internet there. And Miss Connie the children's librarian likes my kids. Surely she won't mind them hanging out all day while their momma blogs on the germy public computers, right? Ooh germy public computers. On second thought....

the mouse doesn't seem so threatening now.