November 13, 2008

My Husband, My Hero

Yesterday Lori wrote about a tiny intruder destroying her woobies (you really should go read it. It makes much more sense when she explains it). As some of you may know, I'm terrified of mice. Little white mice in a cage as pets I'm OK with. Random field mice taking up residence in my home, not so much.

When B.B. was tiny we had a mouse. It had been a long day spent in E'ville shopping. We came home, I settled the boys in bed & crashed myself. BabyGirl & Husband were having a late night together. Shortly after I fell asleep (around eleven o'clock), Husband burst into the bed room & said, "WAKE UP! There's a mouse. Come help me catch it!" Uh what? Hello, have you met me? I'm your wife. I don't do well with rodents & will be completely useless!

When I stumbled out of bed he told me the mouse was behind the entertainment center. I was supposed to stand guard to keep it from running out one end while he tried to catch it at the other. HA! If that thing had run at me, I would have fainted.

He gets the flashlight & looks & looks & looks. Finally we both realized the mouse was under the giant wooden monstrosity. So we spent the next 20 minutes emptying the videos & equipment, cleaning off the picture frames displayed on top, & untangling cords so we could lay it down. The entire time I was on pins & needles thinking our furry little friend would bolt.

Husband moved all the furniture away from the walls so the mouse couldn't run along the base boards. I rolled up a blanket & shoved it under our bedroom door (no way in Hades I was having that thing in my room where the baby was sleeping). We laid the entertainment center down on the floor. Husband, with manly confidence, me, squealing like a little girls & bouncing on my toes. As soon as it hit the floor, I was on the back of the couch.

About this time, BabyGirl, who'd been banished to her room, came running in the kitchen shouting, "I tan tatch dat mouse for you, Daddy!" I started yelling for her to get out of the living room (visions of mouse attacking my beautiful baby girl) and Husband starts yelling, "IT'S UNDER THE COUCH!" To which I replied, "I'M ON THE COUCH!"

The next plan of attack was to lay the couch down on it's back. By this time, I was ready to pack the kids up, leave Husband alone to battle the mouse, and head to Busha's to spend the night. Husband assured me he could catch the intruder. I was doubtful at best.

I stood at the end of the couch closest to the kitchen, helped lay it down, then shot into the kitchen to hold myself up off the floor by the counter tops like a gymnast between two parallel bars....only with much less grace & much more squealing.

Much to my great surprise & relief, my husband, my darling, my knight in shining armor, caught that nasty, flea infested little vermin with his bare hands!!! OK, so they weren't bare. He had on gloves. But still, he caught it & killed it & disposed of it!! He is forever my hero. And I am forever a big dork.


On a side note, if you don't hear from me for a while, fear not. I have entered the wonderland that is Facebook & may never return.


Inkling said...

Yes, but my question is this....where you naked when you had to flee from Reepicheep? I ask this in all seriousness and from sad experience.

FarmWife said...

No. For the record I was fully clothed when this all happend. I believe my husband was in his boxers, but it's been 5 years ago, so I can't be sure.

Lori said...

You must have one fast husband to have caught one of them buggers with his hands, bare or not.

I feel all creepy imagining this scene!

Did you leave a trail of breadcrumbs on your way to Facebook-land?

Kork said...

ICK ICK ICK!!!!!!! I have a mouse post that I shall now have to create for you....if I can stomach the thought of it...blech!

and its good to know that the goose-slayer strikes fear in the heart of all wildlife... :D

Gail said...

Mice I can handle...just don't let out the scorpions!!!

areyoukiddingme said...

I hate mice too, but I seem to have mouse ESP. Whenever there's a mouse in a location, I'm the one that gets to see it first. For some reason, though, no one ever believes me. DH and I had a similar mouse chasing experience. We were living in an apartment while building a house, so we had many boxes and pictures (large paintings)around to block off the room, and I got to stand on the couch as a spotter, while he chased the mouse with a stick of some sort. There's nothing funnier than watching the hunter outwitted by something smaller than his fist - as long as the hunter eventually gets his prey.