So it seems I have come full circle with the mouse. I just moved into a different office at work this week, and every time I look up I see the drawing of Minnie Mouse. Go figure, I end up in a office with a mouse that I see every time I look up. It’s a wonder I dont have PTSD.
That damn mouse held me hostage in my car and then tried to carry out it’s plot against me at my own home. I thought I took care of it years ago, but it seems it’s back.
While I’m thinking about stories involving mice, I figured I would share this story. Not for the squeamish.
For a few years, I lived in a house that I refer to as the shack. It was a very small house. Small enough it only took 3 steps to get to any room.
Since the shack was out in the middle of nowhere, we frequently had mice try to move in when it got cold. I had two cats that apparently didn’t mind sharing space (but the one tried to kill my then husband regularly, but that’s another story).
Mouse traps were common place and during the fall you would hear them snapping regularly. One day I caught 8 in an hour. Yuck. Mice are nasty.
I guess one of the traps I set was not set right. When I checked it, the mouse it caught was still alive as the trap only caught part of its head. I’ll leave most the details out, but his one eye dangled a bit. So I released him outside, feeling really bad that he was hurt. My intent is to never cause any animal to suffer, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill it. So I hoped for a quick death.
Well, I wake up the next morning. Hang my legs off the bed, feet not touching the floor yet, when I see a little fuzzy something on the floor. I focus my eyes, let out a blood curdling scream and jump standing on the water bed.
Yeah.. what did I see… a little mouse staring up at me with one eye dangling. Oh, you could see he was plotting his revenge. He just sat there staring at me (well and the floor). There I am in an all out panic still recovering from being held hostage by a mouse, dancing around on the water bed saying “yuck. Yuck. Yuck.”
I yell for my cats. Oh yeah, they were helpful. They came running, and sat on the floor waiting for a treat. They see the mouse and ignore it. Really? I’m now yelling at my cats to “kill it” while pointing at the mouse who is still staring at me (and the floor) plotting my death. The cats decide they are bored with my game and wonder off disinterested.
Oh hell… I’m gonna have to deal with this myself I finally realize as I’m still dancing around on the water bed freaked out by the one-eyed mouse who’s plotting my death. So I muster up that backbone that served me so well during the aforementioned hostage crisis with a fugitive mouse.
I pole vault off the bed landing in the living room (actually almost through the front window since it was 3 steps to anywhere). I grab a box in the kitchen and come back to scoop up the one-eyed mouse. My skin is crawling.
Outside I go running with the box containing the one-eyed mouse. This time I decide the mouse must die before it tries to carry out its plot against me. But it’s too tiny to break its neck…
Well, we’ll just leave it as the mouse died and was cremated. I am now thoroughly creeped out by mice.
Traumatizing I tell you, but, ok, funny as hell.
After talking to my Mother the other day, I realized not everyone gets the name… She thought the meal I had was in fact called Orgasmic Salmon.
So…
There is this little mirco brew in Sterling / Dulles, VA that I love to eat at when I’m down that way… It’s called Sweetwater Tavern. If you every get the chance to go there, do so. Food is really good… maybe a bit too good….
I was there one day on a business trip with the COE (male) and COO (male) of the company I work for having lunch. I had been there before and liked the food, but this time I thought I would order the Short Smoked Salmon. It is very yummy… I mean very very very very very very very yummy.
So, there I was, eating my super yummy salmon, when the CEO asked me if I was ok. I looked up a bit confused and said yes with a look questioning why he was asking.
My boss, the COO, starts to laugh and says I think she’s gonna need two cigarettes after her meal.
Well, just imagine the horror on my face as I am realizing I am making sounds… Sounds of great pleasure apparently. I mean of really really great pleasure… Oh, I guess, maybe I should mention, I wasnt sitting still either…
And not only were they looking at me, everyone in our section was… Oh, I turned bright red. I tried desperately to eat the rest of my meal in silence… Yeah, that didnt work out real well… It was really really really really good, in case you havent figured that out.
Salmon that was short smoked with a dijon sauce… <pause for moment to self>…. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm….. In my defense, it was really really really really really really really super yummy….
and further, I’m not the only chic that has had the same response to this dish…. But so far, I havent seen anyone distract multiple tables in a rather noisy restaurant.
So, the Short Smoked Salmon is forever known by a few of us as Orgasmic Salmon. Every time I go there, I have to look up the real name as I really just want to order the orgasmic salmon. Maybe I should let them know about this story and ask them to change the name so that I dont have to bother looking at the menu when I go there. And yes, I have been back despite my sheer embarrassment… many times…
Ok…enough mocking other people’s stupidity. Let’s get back to mocking my own personal brilliance while we’re talking about cars.
For the record, this is a story I have not openly shared. Oh, my parents freely tell this story. But I’ve kept this little embarrassing gem to myself for about 27 yrs.
My high school had a drivers ed program. There were about 20 of us to one instructor (brilliant idea) and enough cars for each student to have one for practicing parking. There was a section of the school parking lot set up to practice parking while instructor watched. Although, I never figured out how he saw anything with his eyes closed.
When it came time to go practice parking, we all grab a set of keys and heading to where the cars were parked. Guess what I got? A Pontiac Bonneville. Yeah, a big ass boat. Oh this is going to be fun.
Naturally, it was the dead of winter and had just snowed. So there was snow and ice around parts of the parking lot.
We all got in our cars, lined up and started our little parking parade. All the spots were set up for pull in parking and marked by orange cones. We drove around in a circle trying each spot. Well one of the spots was set up on a 90 degree left turn and angled incorrectly for pulling in. It the object was to back in, it would have been set up perfectly… But we were only practicing pulling in parking.
I was happily parking along like everyone else until I got to this spot. Now I saw everyone else do the same thing I was about to do… and they all hit the same cone regardless of the car size. So I knew this was going to be a breeze in the yacht. Ha! I, of course, hit the cone. So I put the car in park, got out, trudge through the snow and ice fixed the cone and tried again.
Well, dont you know, your feet become very slippery on the pedals when your shoes are snow packed. I tried to pull the yacht in again and hit the cone again. So I put my foot on the break and….
My foot slipped off the break…
Nailing the gas pedal…
And we are airborne…
Over the small embankment….
Rolling down the hill…
I place my foot on the break again and dont you know…
My foot slips off again…
Nailing the gas pedal again…
To lurch further down the hill into the deeper snow and mud…
Sinking…
YEA ME! I went muddin in drivers ed…
Shoot me now, please shoot me now… is all I can think. I anchor the yacht and desperately try to become invisible. Yeah, that didnt work. The yacht is officially stuck and all my classmates are watching and laughing. Of course, since the yacht was stuck, they didnt quite find it so funny when they had to push the behemoth of a car out so we could get it back up the hill to, ya know, pavement.
I believe I still am the only student at that school to ever take a car airborne and go muddin all on school property in one fell swoop. And I PASSED drivers ed… Top that!
So while I’m still thinking about funny stories that occurred when I lived in the shack, let me tell you about the time my son electrocuted my ex. (This is so much better told in person as I become very animated and my hands fly around as I retell this one.)
Many, many, many years ago… I’m sitting in the living room, minding my own business while my ex is in the shower. (Just for clarification, we were still together at the time. Not sure why I felt the need to point that out, but probably because I know I’m a little nuts, but not nuts enough to let my ex shower in my house… And you all dont really know where my line of crazy stops, so I thought clarification my be helpful. )
I hear this very loud thud and lots of other noises.
I jump up and run (the three steps it takes) to the bathroom to see what happened.
What do I find?
There is my ex, sprawled out bare butt naked, soaking wet laying on the floor, hair standing straight up, doing the dying cockroach.
I manage to ask if he’s ok and wait for an affirmative response before I bust out laughing (it was really tough to keep a straight face at the sight).
Oh, he did not think this was funny, but it so was!
Now, what had occurred:
Earlier in the day my son, who was about 10, had used the bathroom. One can only guess what thought process occurred but he had taken a small pair of scissors to the electrical cord on my ex’s beard trimmer while it was still plugged into the hot outlet. Good thing for the boy, the scissors had a rubber handle. Not so good for my ex.
My poor unsuspecting ex, gets out of the shower dripping wet, leaving water everywhere.
He stands in front of the sink where the exposed live wire is waiting.
He’s standing in a puddle of shower water since men dont have enough sense to dry before getting out of the shower.
He reaches for his hair brush, still dripping water and
ZAAAAPPPPPP….
220 lbs goes in the air and he slams into the wall behind him (thud) and slides to the floor shaking from the amplified electricity.
And, when he comes to, his ever so supportive then wife is standing there laughing so hard at the sight she nearly pees herself.
The moral of the story: Always dry off before getting out of the shower (us gals do) and always check for exposed wires before reaching.
Oh, he looks all cute and fluffy, but dont let that fool you. Snowball was one very ornery and homicidal cat. Even at only 7 lbs, he ruled the house.
Snowball had a strong dislike for my now ex-husband, to the point that cat really did try to kill him. No lie people, this is the kinda stuff you cant make up.
We had a waterbed that had a bookcase headboard. The picture below shows Snowball on top of the headboard. On top of the headboard was an old radio alarm clock from the early 80’s, so it was huge and heavy. There was also a small lamp and a few other little things. 
One night I was woken up by a noise, to realize the very heavy and very hard alarm clock was just falling off the top of the headboard directly over my now ex’s head. Since I still liked him at the time I reached out real quick to grab it. It was heavy enough it really would have done some serious damage to a person’s head. I put the clock back, not thinking the cat was trying to kill him and I went back to sleep.
The very next night, I was awoken in the same manner. Just barely catching the clock before it landed on my ex’s head. I noticed this time Snowball sitting very proper with his fluffy tail wrapped around his legs peering over the top to watch as the clock feel. I put the clock back still not thinking that cat was actually trying to kill the ex.
It was the third night that I thought maybe the cat was up to something, as the clock came flying off the headboard again.
So I figured I would solve this by moving the lamp and the to my side of the headboard.
Well dont you know, the next nite I am awaken by a scooting noise. I finally realize what the noise was as I reached out to catch the clock as it was being dropped on my ex’s head. I no sooner had a hold of the clock and I heard the noise again. I barely had time to adjust so I could catch the lamp that was being dropped on my ex’s head.
Well, now, that is one smart and determined cat. He pushed each item back to my ex’s side of the headboard before dropping them off the edge.
On nights my ex wasnt home. The cat left everything alone, but if my ex was home…
My ex usually slept through all of this, but one night I was a little slow catching the clock (yes, this went on for a few weeks.) My hand covered the sharp corner, so all he felt was the back of my hand hitting his head.
At that point, I decided to tell him the cat was trying to kill him and pointed up to Snowball who was sitting there watching. I swear he was smiling.
Needless to say, my ex thought I had lost my mind. Ok, I know I’m slightly off center, but really, why the hell else would I be laying in bed during the middle of the night holding the damn alarm clock and lamp?
Well, since he didnt believe I put the clock and lamp back and laid back down. Thinking to myself, let him catch the clock… in the forehead.
Well, I didnt have to wait but for a few minutes here comes the clock again. I grab it, but it still sorta collides with my ex’s head. OK, I wasnt going to grab the clock, but then I thought… Just how well is this going to go over with the cops, judge, jury, etc… I just dont think anyone was going to believe he had a clock sticking outta his forehead because the cat wanted him dead. I dont think they would have believed me, but it was totally true!!!!
My ex sits bolt right up in bed yelling the cat’s trying to kill him.
Unable to contain my sarcasm I reuse his words implying he’s loco as no cat would be smart enough to pull that off. He told me the cat has to go. Yeah, that was gonna happen. The ex was smart enough to not make me choose him or the cat. He would have lost.
So we got a new bed, one without a headboard. And we got a nightstand for the clock and lamp. Dont ya know, the clock never got pushed off again.
Snowball was a little spitfire of a cat who I miss dearly. Several years after his failed attempts to kill a sleeping man, he disappeared. His brother, Sock Kitty, cried for him every night for months. While they are no longer with me, they gave me some if the best memories with their crazy antics. I hope they are having fun in kitty heaven.
Devious Muse 