Seeing a mouse

It was one of those times when my husband went to bed earlier than I. Reading before going to bed is a great way to relax, only this time it was a bit later than intended. I walked around the house to make sure the doors were locked and the house set in order before Sunday.

As I was in the kitchen preparing to walk into the bedroom, what should I see coming out from our bedroom but a brown mouse! Horrors! It's not like I'm scared of them, I just totally hate the thought of having one of these ugly rodents in our house when I want to sleep. It confirmed what I hated to admit when I was getting a shoe from the bedroom 'closet' a couple days before. My suspicians were that we have a mouse in the house. I was right.

The little critter was so startled! It ran in the hallway closet, then ran out, picked up what I thought was a blue Lego but I think it was a toothpick, tried to go under the door but couldn't because of the thing in it's mouth. So it ran into the living room behind the couch, dropped the toothpick, and hurried back to the safety of the closet. 

I stood there shaking. I didn't want to lose sight of where it went. I wanted that mouse dead!

I hollered and hollered for Merv to come help. I had to keep my eyes on that mouse, you know. No answer. My shrills made the mouse go frantic. It didn't know what to do. It would come out and rush right back under the door.

Then it peeked out and that's when I noticed it's googley eyes. They seemed to pop right out of it's head. You know those toys that you buy where you sqeeze the critter and the flubbery rubbery stuff pops out! That's exactly what it's eyes looked like. It's the best way to describe it. This mouse wasn't that little. It was big and you can always tell what size you have in your house by the size of the droppings. I'm sorry, but I've seen too many.

Keeping my eyes on the critter, I reached for a broom at the top of the basement stairs, not wanting to lose that mouse. I lost a few seconds of constant vigil.

If there's one thing I can't stand is the thought of one being in my bedroom. I do have a habit of walking around at night in very dim light and the last thing I need is a mouse running over my feet. Croak!

No amount of calling or screaming Merv's name did a bit of good. He never heard me. But now I had my weapon in hand, the broom. And of course, the mouse now seemed to know it and didn't peek or come out of that hallway closet. It refused to show it's face.

I set the trap, hoping to catch it in the morning. I took the broom with me to the bedroom.

All the while I prayed, telling God how stupid I felt to be fearful of a little mouse that is much smaller than me. I asked Him to remove those fears and He did.