The Day I Scarred my Children for Life

At age 29 I figured I knew pretty much everything about myself that there is to know. I mean, I have spent these last 29 years with myself. Surely I know me by now.

Right?

Wrong.

Growing up my mother instilled a certain irrational fear, if you will, into my sisters and me. Excuse me if you've heard this part of my story before but I must tell it. I remember being nearly eight years old and hearing my mother scream, watched her run past me and proceed to throw herself on the couch and aim a squirt bottle at the wall behind me.

Because of a spider.

Now that I have children of my own I've tried very, very hard to be calm when I see a spider. It's taken a great amount of self-control that I don't possess in many other areas of my life but when I see an eight-legged, creepy crawly thing I try to hold it together. I don't want my daughters to freak out over spiders the way I have my entire life (thanks, Mom.) I want them to be calm about uncomfortable situations and deal with them in the way they need to be dealt with. (like a cast iron pan to the cephalothorax)

My friends, there are times and places to be in control of one's self. Last night, in my home, was not one of those times or places.

I had gone downstairs to our unfinished basement to put away one last Christmas decoration. On my way back up the stairs I grabbed Shadow's (our golden retriever) dog food bin. A big garbage can. I was too lazy to go upstairs, grab his dish and come back down to fill it. Figured I'd just take the whole thing up with me. I proceeded to stick my hand down into the bin, reached for the plastic cup and scoop up some dog food. Instead I scooped up

a MOUSE!!!!

Mind you, this photo was taken by my husband 2.5 hours later.

I screamed when I realized I had just scooped up the mouse and not dog food. I screamed while I was talking to Josh on the phone. Especially after he told me to just scoop 'im up and put him outside. Uh, hello. NO.

And I may have screamed a little (1 hour) later when I decided to drag the garbage bin full of dog food outside to the porch.

And maybe once more when I thought he'd jumped out of the garbage bin. (sorry, Amy Beth, my text telling you he'd jumped out was wrong. Indeed the little bugger had just burrowed into the cup and I couldn't see him anymore.)

Mind you, my children are at the dinner table witnessing these horrific events.

Sugar says to me, "Mom, is it a big mouse or a little mouse?"

It's HUGE, I want to tell her.

"It's just a little mouse." I had to tell her the truth.

"Well, it's just a mouse. You'll be okay." Says the girl who has seen Ratatouille onetouille many times, obviously.

Josh came home and quickly proceeded to stick his hand down into the dog food, picked up the cup and started talking to the mouse. He asked me if we were going to keep it.

Are you FREAKING kidding me?

"Him or me, Bud, him or me." I'm sad to say my husband had to contemplate that one.

"Well, come outside, we need to say goodbye to him."

Uh, what???

Sure enough, the guy wants to set the vermin free. He nearly let him loose in our wood pile! When I screamed (yes, again) that NO, he would not be doing that, he then went out into our front yard and let him loose there.

"Bye, little buddy."

Seriously, see what I have to live with?

Josh tells me he learned something new about me. After 13 years together it's still possible to not know everything about each other, I guess.

"I didn't know you were afraid of mice."

"I didn't either! But the screaming sure proves I must be."

I'm not proud to admit I'm a sissy la-la. But I totally am.

And 25 years from now, Sugar is going to blog about the day she was sitting down at the dinner table and her mother ran past her, screaming and holding a cell phone while a cute, little mouse nibbled on some dog food.