The Borrowers Lost a Car
Let me tell you a story.
It was Monday night. I had put Eva to sleep and was about to unpack from my Boise trip when I received a text from my dear roommate Hannah.
“I didn’t want to tell you because I wish it didn’t happen but I saw a tiny mouse in the kitchen when I was leaving today… It was traumatizing.”
I was in my bed when I got that text and I couldn’t get myself to move for about an hour. Then I convinced myself I was going to find it and somehow get it out of my house that night because I could not live in a mouse house.
So, what is the first step when you want to hunt a mouse? You put on your mouse huntin’ outfit of course. Underwear and boots. The boots were the key, obviously. I called up my friend Erin who lives down the street and asked her to help me. I put on my pajamas, don’t worry.
Erin and I proceeded to look around the house, open all the cupboards, drawers, crooks, and crannies. Picture me wearing the mouse huntin’ outfit, banging the broomstick throughout the whole house like the awful girlfriend in the Parent Trap when they camp.
There was no mouse to be found, so I prayed hard that I’d be able to stop thinking about it long enough to fall asleep and that we’d be able to catch it.
Fast forward to the next morning. I was in bed working, Eva was napping. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a littttttle black speck move on the carpet. My heart stopped. I couldn’t be sure that it was the mouse, I was hoping my eyes were playing tricks on me. But I jumped up on my bed, called Erin and told her the sitch (short for situation).
“Erin, I think the mouse is in my room but I can’t be sure, what do you think I should…”
At that point, I screamed louder than I’ve ever screamed in my life. The little wretched mouse, or the natural disaster (the name we gave the whole thing), peaked its head out from behind my dresser. Each time I screamed, it would go back behind it. I got off the phone, cried like a little school girl, and had a mental break down as I watched it run out of my room and into the living room/kitchen where there were countless places to hide.
If only the traps were set up already, I would have caught him!
I set the traps up immediately, grabbed whatever I needed for the rest of the day, including Eva in the middle of her nap, and headed to T.J.’s parents.
Wow, this story is long. And awful.
I’ll speed it up. I slept in Hannah’s room that night because I couldn’t be upstairs without wearing my boots. The next morning, we walked up the steps together. Trap one. Nothing. Trap two and three. Nothing. Trap four. Nothing. Trap five. Nothing… WAIT YES…. THERE IT WAS! We got Annie!
I started singing, “Ding dong the witch is dead,” to celebrate and I had my next door neighbor, a retired man (who told me he’s had a couple lately and thinks there’s a nest in the bushes in the front yard) to take it out for me. It was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through, which my mom made me realize that my life must not be too hard. But guys, it really was awful. Awful.
When there’s one, there’s usually more, so we will see. Just in case, I’m always on the edge of my seat, curious of noises around me, and ready to run out of the house.
To end the story, Hannah lost her shoes the other day. I told her the borrowers probably took them. Then we joked about how they are probably moving a lot slower lately now that their car (the mouse) is gone. Not as funny when I write it, but at the time it was so funny.
Hopefully this is the only chapter of this story that will ever be written.
I loved this recounting of the tale. Good thing you had those boots, am I right?