Last night the squirrels in my attic rattled around until daybreak. They ran to and fro, chewing and gnawing on many things. Having squirrels in my attic is a familiar phenomenon for me. I’ve had them there for a long time – but lately, they have kept me up all night. So, this morning I vowed to get rid of the rodents once and for all. My opportunity came after my three-year-old went in for her nap. I read her a story about a mouse and some cookies, tucked her in bed, kissed her, and quickly headed for the closet where my son kept his BB gun. I felt a bit like Rambo as I crept silently into the attic with the BB gun and flashlight. I quickly spotted one of the pesky critters chewing on my High Anxiety Workbook. How dare that little varmint chew on my book!
“Get your own Anxiety book to chew on!” I yelled as I threw my flashlight at him.
He didn’t even miss a beat as the flashlight flew by him. His incessant chewing continued uninterrupted. I knew this because I could still hear his teeth clatter as I crawled around, following the beam of my flashlight.
I reached my destination and assessed the situation. I inspected my battered flashlight and placed the BB gun at my side. I was sitting approximately ten feet away from my prey. I was armed – he wasn’t. I was sweating profusely – he wasn’t. In fact, he was already in the social phobia chapter of my book, and he wasn’t even showing signs of slowing.
As I took in my surroundings, I could see the outline of the attic stairs in the background. The stairs were only a few feet away from me. I could shoot the squirrel, make a run for the stairs and be in the kitchen baking brownies in less than five minutes. I fixed the flashlight on his little beady eyes and positioned myself for the kill. Then, I heard a faint sound coming from the bottom of the stairs. I listened intently. The sound grew louder.
“Mommy, are you up there?” Darn! It was my three-year-old. She woke up early from her nap.
“Yes, honey, I’m up here looking for squirrels,” I replied as I positioned the BB gun and wiped the sweat from my eyes.
I aimed at the pesky critter. He paused momentarily from his gnawing and looked curiously in my direction.
“Did you find any squirrels, mommy?”
“Yes, pumpkin, I found a squirrel.” I cocked the gun.
“Is he cute, mommy?” I fixed the sight on him.
“Can we keep him, mommy?” The sweat was pouring off me as I prepared to fire.
“Mommy, does he have a family like us?”
I put the gun down.
“Yes, sweetheart, he is cute, and no, we cannot keep him because he’s a wild animal,” I replied as I climbed down from the attic.
“I am sure he has lots of family in our attic. Would you like to see him?” I took her hand and led her up the stairs.
“There he is.” I asked, “Do you see him chewing on mommy’s anxiety book over there?”
“Oh yes, Mommy, I do see him. He’s so cute! What’s a ‘xiety’ book?”
No comments:
Post a Comment