Tails of the Clean House

This morning, I realized I weigh 17 pounds less than my husband. I’m not sure how I feel about that. In my head, I am fatter than him. But he keeps calling me skinny. (he’s a beanpole. His weight is deceptive, because you would never guess he weighs what he does. Unless you are Irish. Which is a joke only he will get. This is how I will know if he really reads my blog like he says he does…) (I love you, babe!)

So I’m going to have to think on that one for a while. Maybe I need to re-assess how I look and match it with how I feel. Seems like the 2 aren’t quite lining up.

Moving on…

I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever mention on my blog that we get visits from the occasional mouse. I did that yesterday. Apparently, I have visions of startling accuracy, something like a modern day Nostradamous. Who knew?

Last night, in an attempt to help myself form good habits, I vacuumed the “foyer” of our house. Aka: the 3x2 foot leopard rug that resides by the front door. I was wearing super comfy shoes, and enjoying the look of a clean house. (at least once I vacuumed the rugs it would be) Little did I know, my super comfy shoes caused some static electricity to build up in my system, and as I went to turn the sweeper off- ZAP. I got shocked. Not like someone scooted their feet across the carpet and shocked you on your earlobe (something my brothers and I got spanked for on numerous occasions. Mostly because we did it in the middle of Sunday morning Church…). No, this was a drop you to the floor kind of shock. It scrambled my brain for a minute. After that, I got a little jumpy.

The kids thought (seeing as Mama was really ok) this was terribly funny. So they kept jumping out at me, poking me, making a nervous Mama pee a little, and laughing hysterically. (Again, I deserve this. My brothers and I made Margaret the Saint wet her pants several times while we were growing up. She would be so mad she’d cry the whole way home from church ((I guess we were really bored at church, because it was a good homebase for our antics)) and when we got home, we’d get a butt swat or 5.)

Needless to say, I was super edgy last night.

So about midnight, as I was waiting for the laundry to finish so I could switch over a load of uniforms for the morning, I saw Puppy- our renegade cat- go tearing through the house. Immediately I patted myself on the back, knowing that even the cat was finding joy with so much floor space recovered. She could run like a cheetah in the wonder of the Little Hester House that Could (Get Clean), and what a joy to watch her! She was having lots of fun, running around, getting into that pounce position, then pouncing, almost like she was really chasing a…

MOUSE.

Once I realized this fact, I got a little nervous. I don’t like my cat, but I feel sorry for her when it comes to the usual cat-like activities. I don’t know if we ruined her by naming her Puppy or what, but when it comes to chasing mice- she’s kinda like the friend you have who gets fired from their job because they always show up late, and then crashes on your couch for an indefinite amount of time. She’s got some issues.

Mostly because she likes to play with it, and can’t figure out how to catch it dead. She’s a catch and release kind of cat.

The last time Puppy caught a mouse, she went the pizza delivery route, and had one already caught for her. On a GLUE TRAP. Which got stuck to her too. That was a mess that involved peanut butter and scissors, and I had the good sense to film it all. If you haven’t seen it, you can watch it here.

But tonight, she was determined to catch that mouse. Thankful that my feet were up on the couch, I watched her run around like a cat on crack. She pounced and bounded for 10 minutes, and eventually I became re-absorbed in Top Chef All-Stars. I quit paying attention to her.

Pretty soon she hopped up onto the couch with me and I absentmindedly reached over to pet her. (I don’t like her at all, honest.) My hand jerked back when I heard a pathetic little squeek.

THE MOUSE WAS IN HER MOUTH.

I shoved her (and the mouse) off the couch, Puppy let the mouse go, and I had to take a few deep breaths to get calmed back down. And get a towel. (Yeah, that made me wet my pants. All the way) I decided this was a good time to switch the laundry over, clean myself up, and go to sleep. On my way back through the living room, I noticed that the mouse had apparently hidden himself underneath an empty laundry hamper (so nice to have those again) and Puppy was doing her best to catch it, going from one side to the other, stalking her prey. I figured the mouse would get away and move out, since Puppy was on the prowl. And I went to bed.

So this morning, 6am came. And I got the kids ready for school as I always do. 2 of the 3 were in a good mood, which I consider a great morning, and they made their 7am rendezvous with the bus.

I turned the lights in the living room off, and snuggled onto the couch for a little time with Will and Grace on Lifetime. Matt got ready for work, headed off, and I began folding a load of laundry on the couch. Pretty normal stuff. I went downstairs to the scary basement and got the next load from the dryer.

I decided I would sit on the floor and fold the next basket of clean duds. I sat down criss-cross-applesauce style (cause it’s now unPC to say “Indian style”) and lost my balance a bit. I put my hand on the floor to catch myself, and there was something like a pencil underneath my hand.

That’s odd, I thought, my floor is spotless!

Until the moment I realized it wasn’t a pencil, or a pen, or anything else I would WANT to touch.

It was a mouse tail.

I snapped on the overhead light in the living room, and this was what I saw…

UG.

So, I got the dustpan, poked the poor mouse to make sure he wasn’t mostly dead, but verify he was all dead. (He was toast.) I scraped him up with the dustpan, promptly took him outside to the trash can, and Clorox wipe-ed my floor at the crime scene.

And that is why I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever mention a mouse potentially visiting my house again.

But every once in a while, we DO have a winning lottery ticket show up…