NOT A Mouseketeer

While it is true that I visited Disney World a few months ago it is not because anyone here has ever been a Mouseketeer. I don't care how cute Mickey and Minnie are, I just can't find it in my heart to feel all warm and fuzzy inside over an animal that scares me out of my wits on what seems to be a more and more frequent basis.

This morning I actually had time to eat breakfast before leaving for our homeschool co-op. I can't tell you how much that seems to be happening on a less and less frequent basis. But I'm almost sorry I had the time today because within moments the experience was anything but appetizing.

My attention was drawn to the corner where we have a mouse trap placed behind a plant stand. It's there because in December we discovered an honest-to-goodness Tom and Jerry mouse-hole when one ran past my feet and made its escape. The trap had remained undisturbed until this morning when I noticed that it had been moved several inches. It was pulled under a plant leaf close to the wall and the tail was all of the rodent that I could see.

Oh! Look at the time! Gotta leave for co-op!

When the Bear and I returned we found that Pastor Dad had also arrived. I started to point out our prize when I suddenly felt my heart skip a beat. The trap was upside-down on top of the mouse. Either the dog had moved it, or - perish the thought! - the mouse had!

I excused myself so that I could visit the little girls' room. It seemed a reasonable thing to do. I had just returned home from a busy day of classes. Besides, mousework is a man's job in this house.

A few minutes later I heard Pastor Dad and the Bear laughing with too much exuberance to be a victory dance. Sure enough, the mouse had just been hoping for someone to release its tail from the spring. Off he went through the hole in the wall while they watched in surprise.

Great. Just great. Now we had a mouse running loose somewhere in the house and stains that could be either blood or remnants of the purple shamrock plant (oxalis) that sits nearby. I've yet to gather up enough curiosity to find out.

Several hours later I heard a trap downstairs snap as I was sitting quietly taking my blood pressure. (Guess the numbers of that reading for the grand prize! Just kidding. I'm not admitting anything even if my monitor does have a memory chip.) No way this guy was playing 'possum. But my quick preliminary investigation didn't show blood stains or marks on the tail so perhaps we're dealing with a whole Clubhouse. Either way I'm hoping soon to be able to say, "Show's over!"