The Christmas Mouse


Headboard

I don’t sleep well most nights but last night began as an exception; I put my book down at 11:30 and was soon gone. Suddenly, I felt something hit my knee a good, hard blow. I quickly awakened to find a bedside light on and the missus sitting up in bed. “Wayne? Wayne! There’s a mouse in the trash can!” When she came in from work, she made herself a sandwich and brought it to the bedroom to eat. It must have not been a good meal because she stuffed half of it into her nearly empty potato chip bag and and told me to toss it into the trash can which is on my side of the bed. The mouse must have appreciated her generosity. “What time is it?” I asked. She replied it is one twenty-five and time for me to get up and catch or kill the mouse. I listened for awhile and never did hear anything from the trash can so I grabbed my huggy pillow and put it over my head, intending to go back to sleep. “Wayne! I can’t sleep with that mouse in here!” Apparently I can’t either,” I replied. After nearly a half hour of listening–I damn sure wasn’t going to inventory the trash can; I’ve been mouse bitten before–I convinced her to turn the light off so I could go back to sleep. In a few minutes I heard “I have to go to the bathroom.” “Go!”, says I. “I’m afraid I’ll step on the mouse,” says she. So we both turn lights on and she tiptoes to do her thing and makes a mad dash back to the safety of the bed, in as much as an out of shape old woman can dash. She eventually turned her light out and dozed off, leaving me wide awake and staring at the ceiling. When I did go back to sleep, I had a nightmare about a giant red-eyed Christmas mouse wearing a Santa hat between its antlers and sporting huge, gnashing canines chasing me through some woods. I woke up in a sweat and tossed around for awhile before once again snoozing. I didn’t wake up again until the alarm went off at seven-thirty. Every bit of the sandwich she did not eat was missing from the chip bag in the trash can, along with the chips.

Carolyn has gone to the hair dresser and is threatening to buy some mouse traps on the way home; I hope she doesn’t until after Christmas; even a mouse should be respected and tolerated during this holiday season of good will toward men. Maybe a nice tiny red ribbon on a piece of sharp cheddar cheese behind the tree where Carolyn can’t see it? Merry Christmas little mouse; Merry Christmas everyone!
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Today is the shortest day of the year in our earthly hemisphere; at 30 minutes past midnight tonight local time, the sun will begin its slow return toward the equator, eventually carrying spring and summer along with it.
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Have a great last Wednesday of Autumn, 2011!

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Published in: on December 21, 2011 at 10:53 am  Comments (6)  
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6 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. Tell Granny I said not to kill the little guy. He just wants love and attention… and maybe a snack!

    • I will tell her but it won’t do any good. She said for you to send Bubba to catch the mice. ๐Ÿ™‚
      Thanks, Jeremy ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. Ha. I love the way you tell a story, even a silly one about a mouse. After my experience with the rats I think mice are like them in that there is never just one. I’d keep an eye out… Glad to see you are feeling better. xoxo
    Oh, the robins are in my yard every morning. This morning they were flitting about with the morning sun reflecting off their red breasts making them look luminated. They are a cheery bunch and as I sipped my coffee watching them in the trees I was overcome with their happiness too. they are a lovely christmas present.

  3. I love this story too; especially your night dialogues. They (mice) live in their different small burrows. In my old house they were under a wood floor of the bed room. Sometimes I could even hear them at night, fortunately they didn’t appear in our rooms. I think all women (not only Carolyn) don’t like mice and are afraid of them. It’s a kind of a human atavism, I think.
    I like it: … she tiptoes to do her thing … Nice; so shortly said. ๐Ÿ™‚
    xo

  4. I’ll pray for the solstice mouse. Rats are far worse. They are evil and nasty.

    • So far, the mouse –or mice– are winning.
      Thanks, Mark


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