I smell a rat

If past posts haven't made you scared enough of my house, I now have a mouse in my kitchen. I knew it was there. At night I could sometimes hear sounds like my oven was turned on but it wasn't. You know that kind of sound it makes sometimes? Anyway. I had told Jared I thought there was a mouse but he seemed not too concerned.
Well, last night Jared was at the table eating soup, gearing up to cut out Ethan and Ike's pinewood derby cars (derby is tomorrow) and he suddenly yelled for me. I was upstairs getting kids to bed. He yelled, "Liz! I need you!" I came running down wondering if he had somehow managed this phrase while choking because Jared is a big choker and I have saved his life more than once. When I came into the kitchen he was holding a broom and was poised by the dishwasher with "crazy eyes." Crazy eyes are Jared's eyes only ten times bigger. He handed me a mop. He said, "We have a mouse!" No kidding.
He kept poking around the stove and dishwasher and mumbling things about the measurements of the cabinets, the height of the floorboards etc. As usual, he believes an error in his building could be blamed for "the little beggar" getting in. He really believes a house can be built so perfectly that it would never have bug, foundation, rodent or any other issues. I try to tell him this is Houston but he doesn't listen. I told him, "Honestly babe, the kids always leave the front door open. The mouse probably just waltzed on in, right past our blind cat, and made himself at home." He wasn't listening.
He proceeded to give me instructions on how to "wap!" the rat with my mop while he pushed it out of it's hiding place with the broom. This thought was almost more than I could bare. I don't do animals. At all. And this is not a sweet little pet, it is a disease-ridden varmint. I was trying to harness my chi and get myself ready for the filthy guy to come running out from under the oven. I was planning on closing my eyes, screaming, and just swatting anything and everything as hard as I could with the mop. But Jared could not seem to find where the rat had stowed away to. At this point, I was ready to just put out some poison, go to sleep, and not set foot in my kitchen until the culprit was dead and GONE. But Jared (he can be obsessed at times) decided we would do a rat watch. We turned off the lights, sat side by side facing our stove........and watched. He really believed this would be productive. I went along with it because I had nothing better to do, and it was kind of entertaining--watching Jared's wild eyes dart around the kitchen while he threw out countless theories as to how the mouse got there, how long he'd been there, and if he had any friends.
This went on for quite sometime with no results. Finally, I went to bed. I'm not sure what happened after that. This morning when I left early to take Harris to the doctor, there was no sign of the mouse or Jared. They were both in their hiding places asleep.

Light

Starting to feel better. I think my guest has started packing. Thanks for ya'lls support. I am blessed to call so many strong, amazing, compassionate women my friends.

Today I'll be working at my kids' school. That will be good for me. Once I'm out the door and around people I usually feel pretty good. And I could do that everyday (and often do) but then my house and it's uanavoidable needs become sorely neglected. The pile of laundrey next to Jared's side of the bed is becoming known as "the mound." When my kids are desperately seeking socks in the morning I say,"Go check the mound." When there isn't a pair of jeans to be found when the morning is brisk, I tell them,"I think there are some clean ones in the mound." The mound is a clever mixture of both clean and dirty clothes and I think the cat may have puked in there somewhere. She broke into the house and tore a hole in the bag of catfood in the pantry and ate to her belly's content. So, I think I got all of what looked like cat puke clothes out of the mound and into the laundrey room (still not in the washer) but you never know with a mound of this magnitude. The cat could be in there for all I know. The only answer is the laundrey mat. (I actually love the laundrey mat. Coins jingling, washers agitating, dryers humming, weirdos abound, I find it all very soothing.) It will have to be done all at once. All of it. No sense in trying to sort. If a cat puked in the mound it is all pretty unsanitary wouldn't you say? Hope CPS doesn't follow this blog.

not title worthy

This morning I feel..just blank. And a little sad. The sad is curcumstantial. The blank is mostly chemical. I will now shower.