The uninvited house guest...part deux

Yes, the mouse came back. And he brought a friend.

On Saturday (after a couple of Jimmy Beams and diet Pepsi) Daddio had the misfortune of seeing a mouse in our house.

He was in the basement and heard a noise. He opened the door to a small room where I keep hair stuff, vases, flower arrangements, in other words, a stash of crap. There amidst the perm rollers, the hair coloring and a pot of fake daisies was a little black mouse.

I figured that Daddio had seen the mouse running along the floor...or that he'd seen it scurry under a door.

When he told me that it looked him square in the eye, approximately 5 feet 9 inches off the ground, from its perch on the third shelf, second from the top, sitting, (like it owned the place) on my container of acrylic paints...that about did me in.

“Get it outta here…..get it outta here….get it outta here” I was a screeching broken record.

Daddio ran to the garage and went to work setting a trap. He generously shared the pizza he was eating and placed the mouse's share on a little old fashioned wooden mouse trap

He carefully walked it down the stairs, set it on the ground and bid the mouse "bon appétit”.

And au revoir.

(He didn’t really say exactly that, I wanted to try out the free online translation site I just found.)

The next morning I followed Daddio down to the room to see if the traps had done their job.

They were both empty…not only was there no little mouse cadaver…the pizza was gone too.

The trap was licked clean.

“Oh sweet Jesus” I cried. “Let me guess, we have a smart mouse in our house.”

Daddio quickly figured out the Jimmy Beam and diet Pepsi had clouded his normally very sharp mechanical mind and that he’d set the traps wrong.

He got to work and set them again. This time he used a tiny piece of bread and a small blob of peanut butter.

The following morning was an almost total repeat of the day before.

This time when we opened the door we saw the little black mouse, dead as a doornail with some peanut butter still on his little lips. (I can't be certain that it was in fact peanut butter on it's little lips or that it even had any little lips I didn't really get all that close...I let my imagination run wild sometimes).

“Where is the other one?” Daddio asked, looking puzzled.

“There were two traps” he said.

“ There were TWO? Find it” I screamed and tried to run for the stairs.

Daddio moved some large pieces of wood that were in the little room and he heard some rustling.

Something was back there.

“Oh man” Daddio said…”there is another one and it's stuck to the trap, still alive”.

I wanted to get the vacuum and suck it up or find a big shoe and clobber it.

Daddio got the trap, with the mouse still attached and went into the garage.

He yelled for a pair of gloves, which I dutifully delivered.

And Daddio, who can now add Amateur Veterinarian Surgery to his repertoire of vast and unusual talents, went to work trying to save the miniature house invader.

"I think he lost a limb",  he later told me. "Hopefully he will be able to survive with only three."

(Yeah,  I'm sure he will survive and then we will be duty bound to provide housing for a handicapped mouse and a couple of his friends.)

Later when he went to check on the poor maimed thing the mouse hadn’t moved from the spot where Daddio left him.

“What a way to start a day, I had to kill it” Daddio said with a broken heart. “It was too hurt”.

I've taken to wearing combat boots when I go downstairs to do laundry.

The "accident" site.
(Thanks for listening....)

An unwelcome visitor......

This was written in July....

This morning after waking Daddio, I grabbed the dog and went downstairs to pour dear hubby a cup o joe and let the pooch out to potty. As I rounded the corner into the kitchen I saw something out of the corner of my eye…something small and black.


I think we startled each other.

I screamed and it ran.

And then I ran.

Right up the stairs.

I burst through the closed bathroom door where I found Daddio using the toilet.

“There is a mouse in the house” I screamed “it ran in the downstairs bathroom”.

For the first time I could relate to Daddio’s mother who happens to be so afraid of mice that she will call him out at midnight if she thinks she may have seen/heard/imagined a mouse in her house.

I’m not sure if I object to it co-habituating with us because it’s a filthy little rat or because it’s sneaky and will scare the shit out of me when we happen upon each other.

It will probably be at night when we are both searching for food.

I can imagine it whizzing past me, seeking hidden shelter.

I’ll be so startled, my heart will pound and I’ll get all shaky legged from the adrenalin rush.

I can’t open Pillsbury refrigerator biscuits or play with a Jack in the Box for the same reason. I’ve been known (too many times) to yelp when my phone, placed on vibrate goes off during weekly staff meeting.

I can’t do startle.

“Please HURRY” I begged Daddio.

When he finally made it downstairs and into the other bathroom he spotted the critter.

“Grab a bowl” he instructed.

A bowl, A BOWL!? I had to do a quick inventory of my bowls trying to decide which one I could part with. Once it housed a mouse it would no longer be welcome in my cupboard.

Daddio got behind the door and quickly slammed it shut

I became momentarily paralyzed when, like a soon to be victim in a horror film, I noticed the enemy had an “out”.

There was a huge space under the bathroom door under which, when this creature decided to change its molecular structure and turn liquid, he would be able to escape from.

And he would, I was certain, be running toward ME!

I grabbed a big towel and slinked toward that gaping (1 inch) crawl space. I tossed the towel across the bottom of the door and was then able to take a breath.

Soon Daddio came out of the bathroom holding the bowl covered with the bathroom rug.

I was amazed at his Ninja skills…I didn’t think it would be that easy to catch a mouse.

Daddio, who can’t kill a fly took it outside and tossed over our favorite (not) neighbor’s fence.

I asked Daddio if he thought the mouse would find its way back “home” and take up residence with us again.

He thought no.

I then asked Daddio if mice run in packs? Travel in droves? Reproduce without a mate?

Later, while showering my exfoliating mitt fell off the shelf and grazed my bare ankle, I let out a blood curdling scream….. Jamie Lee Curtis/Janet Leigh style.

I am now officially one of those women…the ones who jump on a chair and scream for help when they see (or think they see/hear/imagine) a mouse in their house.

A mosaic of them all.....

"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." - George Eliot

"Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower."- Albert Camus

Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree….Emily Bronte

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting, and autumn a mosaic of them all….Stanley Horowitz


The beauty is breathtaking here this time of year. I am mesmerized by the changing scenery. When I look at the trees I feel like there is a painter inside of me, waiting. 

Daddio doesn't get it....I will leave you with his latest autumn quote....

"You idiot! Don't you know what you're looking at is Death and Dying?"

What can I say, the man keeps me grounded.  ;-)


Edited to add that I did not scour the internet in search of beautiful fall pictures to place in my blog post...I, yes I took the beautiful aforementioned pictures with my new camera a Sony Cyber-shot DSC-H20 (all photographers list their equipment teee-hee) down the street at the Rec Center.      :-)

The Doc-tor is in..................

"Mom" the minute I heard her voice I knew something was wrong.

"What?...WHAT'S WRONG????!!!!" I jump from my normal hysterical self to certified nut case when I hear that tone.

"Is a citation the same thing as a ticket?" sniffle, sniffle.

"Uh....yup" arrggghhhhh.

"I told you, I told you , I told you this was gonna happen...didn't I????? arrrghhhhh.

"Ohhhhhh I don't need this right now, I gotta go" sniffle sniffle.

"Wait, don't hang up, you need to stop crying, you'll get in an accident, don't hang up, please.... I'll stop" aaargggghhhh.

Later when she got home she was furious..."Why are you so mad" I asked her " because you got caught"?

She didn't know why...she just was.

I am a bit of a back seat driver and a bona fide nag when I'm anywhere but the driver's seat. Slow down, don't tailgate, make sure you stop all the way, watch for that car, watch for that pothole, watch for that, watch for that, watch for that....

"The next time I drive you anywhere...you will be wearing a muzzle" she told me recently after a lengthy road trip.

"I am very tired of your telling me what to do....I am a good driver and I don't have any tickets and so you need to back off, and I mean it"....(feisty little thing this daughter of mine).

Ok...so being the first born child and knowing that all children that come after me (including my own) can and will be subject to my very own personal brand of torture...I really really really badly want to rub it in.

I'd chant "I told you so I told you so I- t- o- l -d -y- o- u -s -ooooooo...."

I'd whisper every chance I got "Smarty pants, you should have listened."

I would sing, "You should have listened...you should have l-i-s-t-e-n-ed!"

"Now seeeeee what happened...seeeeee seeeeee what happened".

If I told her once, I’ve told her a hundred and fifty seven times a little red car and a pint sized foot made of lead...don't mix.

She tells me she is going to pay for this ticket. I tell her that her dad and I paid for her brothers when they got a ticket and that she would also be allowed to have one Get Out of Jail Free card...she's digging her heels in on this one..she is going to pay.

I think I finally got to the bottom of the anger...and the determination to pay this ticket herself.

Yesterday she made the comment that she was now a delinquent, a trouble maker...a no good rotten kid.

She forgot to add....tainted, corrupted, and fouled.

This child (she believes) has taken a fall from Grace....

And to pay the ticket herself...she'd still keep her standing as the Good Kid in the family. The Responsible One...the One Most Likely To never break the Bank of Mom and Dad, or their hearts either.

(I want this publicly known...you little girl are perfect in every way, no traffic ticket, not even going 80 in a 70 zone in a little red car talking a mile a minute on your cell phone to Trouble is going to change that. You, my dear, really do walk on water as far as you loving father and I are concerned….

I hope you know that.

Love, Dr Mom...(the armchair psychologist)

Who would have thought that this darling child would grow up to cause this kind of trouble????? If you look closely at this picture you can see her little arm beginning to tighten around the cat's neck. Children that grow up to be delinquent law breakers often start out by hurting small defenseless animals. I should have seen it coming

 
(Googie your mama loves you...more than life itself)

Sweet child o' mine.......

"Were you in my room last night mom?"

"Only to kiss you good night darling."

I wanna hold your hand.....

Tomorrow is the day they take the little spot of the BIG C off of Daddio’s darling handsome face. I know he's very worried, he hasn’t said so much, but I can tell by how he is acting that he is stressed.


I have been bugging him for over 20 years to let me go with him when he exercises. He either rides his bike or he takes looooooooong walks (like over 6 miles). And he walks really fast. Since I don't like to sweat and I am rather wimpy when it comes to most things physical he usually says to my pleas to join him "hell no, you’ll never be able to keep up, go play on your computer or call your sister", but the last three nights he's invited me to go.

Last night he almost left without me; I was taking too long to get ready. I had to dig out my shoes, pee, find some gloves and my earmuffs (never mind that it was almost 60 degrees, a girl has got to be prepared), put on a hoody, then a coat, and then I peed again. I started getting warm after going pee for the third time and had to ask him to wait, just one more sec for me to take off the hoody.

“Too many layers” I explained when he rolled his eyes.

I hesitated before walking out the door; Daddio noticed and asked “What?”

“I may have to go pee one more time” I answered.

I knew he was trying to prove a point (that I can't keep up) when he started off toward a path that I know to be long and treacherous…I didn’t say a word. Not even one. I just walked.

He is getting used to me being next to him. We don’t talk much while we walk, Daddio because he just doesn’t talk much, and me because I know I need to stockpile my air since I have no clue how far he is going to make me walk.

Before long I’m sniffling, and I’m unprepared, I rifle through my coat pocket and come up empty handed…no tissues, no gum wrapper, nothing, not even a tiny ball of lint.

Daddio notices me sniffling and when I say “Oh man, I may have to shoot off one of those snot rockets the kids are always talking about”.

He reached in his pocket and fished out a tissue, “I figured you’d need one, either to wipe your nose, or your butt, in case you had to pee again”.

I was impressed that he thought of me.

He took us on a very dark path, where there are no street lights or even any houses.

He stopped abruptly and whispered “can you see all those deer?”

The guy must have eyes like a cat, because I couldn’t see a thing in the pitch black.

I was scared and I reached for Daddio’s hand. He let me grab it and hold it for a long time. He usually isn’t one for public displays of affection, but it was pitch black and nobody was there to see him do it.

I knew Daddio was worried too when he said things like “I hope there’s not a big buck in that herd” and “Next time we need to bring a flash light so we can see what’s coming at us”.

When we finally got to a path with some light, both our cell phones start ringing. We each had a son calling. Of course the calls came with some drama. Not too much, but enough for us both to be kind of irritated.

“Next time we leave the phones home” Daddio said with a laugh.

Next time? (WOW, yes next time).

We walked on and when we got near to our house Daddio said “I think you may soon be ready for the big one” meaning one of his big long over 6 miles walk.

Lying in bed last night I got to thinking about our walk.

Our lives are a lot like that journey.

With 100% percent certainty I can say that there are going to be many more times that I keep him waiting. And that I will be unprepared and struggle to keep up with him. (I will always be grateful that he anticipates my needs; today I would have been mortified at having to launch a snot rocket in front of him).

I will say that for sure the kids are going to cause a fair amount of drama and stress in our lives, but probably not so awful that we can’t later laugh about it,

And as sure as the sun is to shine I know that when it’s dark and scary in our little world there will be a strong, loving, comforting hand always within each other’s reach.

Say a little prayer for Daddio today.

(A little PDA, notice the hands)

Sleepin double in a single bed......

Daddio is a huge fan of old television shows. He references them often, so when he suggested the other day that we get seperate twin beds to sleep in like Lucy and Ricky Ricardo had, I just shook my head.

“My grandparents slept ass to ass for 52 years and you and I are going to sleep ass to ass for as long as we are together too.”

“I don’t think it’s good for married people to sleep apart” I told him

“Lisa and Oliver Douglas (Green Acres) slept in the same bed and Archie and Edith Bunker did too". 

“Exactly! And both those guys are crabby bastards.”

"I wanna be like Ricky Ricardo.....playing my guitar and singing Babalu, life doesn't get much better than that. And it's all because the guy gets a good nights sleep. He doesn't have to put up with anybody tossing and turning, getting in and out of bed"

"Just a guy and his pillow"..... Daddio said wistfully

The words to Babalu…..(I’m going to have a field day with this one).



CHORUS

Great Babalu!

I'm so lost and forsaken.

Ah, great Babalu!

Bring back the love you've taken.

You can restore all the dreams that once were mine

If only you'll use some mystic sign.

Ah! Great Babalu!

Bring her back to me.

Ah!

I think I may have found a single bed for Daddio...looks like his guitar could fit under it too.