With little Cam Bam’s birthday party this past weekend (which went fabulously!!) we decided that we would increase space in our house by rolling out one of our oriental rugs downstairs, which is partially finished, well, mostly finished, but not to my standards. My standards would be to rip everything down and start over. Which is a possibility...Anyways, we were rolling out a rug and found THIS:
DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THIS IS?!?!?!
IT’S A FREAKING MOUSE NEST!
Okay, so went we found it, I certainly first grabbed my camera to document this event and then let my emotions kick in. I turned about 15 shades of white, grey and then green and had to rush upstairs before I keeled over. I then proceeded to put my head in between my legs to avoid passing out and tried to control my breathing because I was starting to hyperventilate. Were they still alive and LIVING in that nest?? Or were they setting up shop somewhere else in my house? Was I living among them AGAIN?? Was I going to see those little demons running across my kitchen or my washroom?? Or hear them in my WALLS?? Even as I type this, I feel small spasms of anxiety shoot through my body. How did all this start?
Let me start at the beginning.
We decided to move closer to my parents and to find a house that had a small apartment attached to it for Chris’ mom, as (at that time) we were planning on building a house. We finally found a farmhouse in a nice little town that seemed to fit our needs. Sure, it was old, and not attractive. In fact, I HATED the bathroom and the layout of the place, but, hey, I was near my parents and needed help with Nicholas who was a small baby at the time and it had a small apartment in the walk out basement for Chris’ mom. And the rent was affordable if we split it. And the kitchen was sunny and it had an attached deck and the landlord allowed dogs and cats. It also had a detached garage for storage. Seemed like I could deal with it for the short time were were supposed to live there. So we put our two bedroom condo up for sale and moved north towards both of our families.
I should have known things were bad. I mean, there were signs. The landlord was ANCIENT. And by ancient, I mean she was pushing 90. And she had this sort of “pool boy” / “fix it man” who lived in another small apartment on her property which was across from the farmhouse that were were going to rent. He was probably in his 60’s and to this day I have absolutely NO IDEA what he did. She had a lawn service come and take care of her grounds, she had a pool service come and service her pool, and had several repairmen come and go from her house. So who was this guy?? I can only imagine and my stomach twirls into grotesque knots to think what he was there for. And? He ALWAYS reeked of cocktails. And he knew nothing about fixing things. When we had a clog in our kitchen? She sent him over and he had NO IDEA how to fix it. He fiddled around under the sink with a huge flashlight and a plunger. And then called a plumber. So the mystery continues.
Anyways, I digress. The week we moved in, we were cleaning the cabinets and I found these little “pellets”. I had no idea what mouse poop looked like! How was I to know? I didn’t grow up in any sort of country, nor did I ever feel the need to have a rodent for a pet. So when I asked my mother-in-law “Hmmm..What is all this stuff?” And she replied,” Gee...It looks like mouse poop.”
I think I jumped a mile and ran out of the house. She then assured me that it was a country house and that it had been vacant. She was sure that they had probably been in the house, but now that we were in there, they would be very scared and had run away to wherever it was they came from. I still refused to touch the stuff and proceeded to put on medical gloves and then rubber gloves to touch anything in the house that wasn’t disinfected first. I even peed in the yard three times because I hadn’t bleached the bathroom to it’s fullest potential (meaning to the point where the linoleum was bubbling and the fumes of bleach officially burnt all of your nose hairs out of your nose). And I made Chris buy a new toilet seat. There was NO WAY I was using one where I had NO IDEA who’s butt had been on it.
So when everything was disinfected and moved in, I relaxed a bit before I had to start my new job. I had a couple of weeks to acclimate to my new surroundings and give baby Nicky a chance to acclimate also. We had a hard time using his favorite swing because the floor was so slanted and was made of HUGE wooden planks that his swing had a difficult time keeping rhythm. Oh well, I thought I could deal. I maintained a good attitude, until one morning after I had my breakfast.
I had finished my yogurt and fruit and set it beside the sink and went to check on Nicky in his swing. It frequently needed a “push” because of the uneven floor. I checked on the baby and then returned to the kitchen. I turned the corner to enter the kitchen and looked over to the sink just in time to see a small, dark critter jump from inside my cereal bowl, run across the sink and jump behind the stove.
It was a freaking MOUSE.
I started screaming.
And screaming.
I ran out of the kitchen to the telephone where I called Chris. I clutched the phone with white knuckles as I slowly walked back into the kitchen as I was waiting for Chris to pick up on the other end.
It was there again.
Hopping in and out of my cereal bowl.
Chris answered the phone and I was mid-scream. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I don’t think I took a breath as I continued into the next scream. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” I could hear Chris on the other end, “Oh my god! What is wrong! SARAH! ANSWER ME! STOP SCREAMING!!”
Okay, so there was a wooden beam (ala Little House on the Prairie) going across the kitchen near the ceiling. I imagine people would have hung herbs and flowers from this beam once upon a time. This time I was climbing it. I jumped onto the counter (far away from the mouse) and grabbed onto the beam where I hoisted myself like a trapeze artist onto the top. There I perched...Still screaming and becoming very faint. Chris, on the other end of the phone was still yelling at me to explain to him what was going on.
<Panting> “There’s there’s a m-m-m-mouse. <yelp> <more panting> IN THE KITCHEN!!!!!!!!!” “AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”
“SARAH! GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF! Oh my god. I thought you were being attacked! DON’T you EVER do THIS to ME!” Chris yelled from the other end.
<hyperventilating> “I’m calling your MOTHER. NOW! she needs to get here. NOW!!!!”
I hung up the phone and frantically dialed my mother in law’s number.
She answered. “AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” THERE’S A MOUSE IN THE FREAKING KITCHEN!!!!!! IN MY CEREAL BOWL!!!!!!!”
“Where’s the baby?” she asked.
<panting> “In the other room in his swing”, then I start to cry. “ I HATE MICE!!!!” WAHHHHHHHH!!” I begin to sob.
“Hold on! I’m coming right now. Where are you?”She asked.
“I’m on the beam in the kitchen. <sniffling> I HATE mice!!!!!!!” <realization> “OH MY GOD! They are still IN THE HOUSE!!!!” <more hyperventilating>
I remained perched on the beam in the kitchen until my mother-in-law arrived.