Early evening today, the Chicago electrical power was out for a five block radius and I delighted in how smart my dad is/was, "make sure the batteries are full and you always got one flashlight."
Oh - I pressed the flashight button on and highlighted a medium size gray mouse and one fuller black mouse darting to behind my stove. I screamed, no I'm not a screamer, even the pedestians on the cement passing by were frightened due to the volume and intensity.
John (building manager, friend) came up at 7:30 and again at 8:30 pm, with a mouse trap and peanut butter. By the latter time I witnessed a living being get chopped in half and for fifteen minutes it continued to struggle, suffer. Was the right thing to something - that was a cruel death. I watched and felt what, I don't know but certainly not enough.
John toted out the dead gray mouse in a plastic bag, to show someone? It was his idea too to take my mattress, block the kitchen and prevent the black mouse from invading my space - he was right - the black mouse is shooting from corner to corner in the kitchen only.
The little girl in me now is disconcerted. For instance, if there's an ant or a Caterpillar, I scoop it up, toss it out the window and say, "I know you'd rather be outdoors!"
"Itchy bed bag bites, hu? We'll see who else complains," the manager somebody said yesterday.
An active black mouse, I can hear him. It could be worse, I could live in Indonesia or vote for Sarah Palin.
Would you have felt something?
I won't sleep or eat tonight. I dare you to go in that kitchen.
2 comments:
Nice piece Sheila. Palin, hahaha! Could be a lot worse indeed.
You're a fierce democrat like me, I read you Facebook page. I'll be a follower for you blog and you for mine.
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