Eeek! Eeek! Eeek! (updated)

I have a fear of wildlife--especially wildlife that appears in my home. Fortunately, that has not happened too often. OK, I think it's only happened twice. Once back in my lovely old house and again in my new cute little home on Christmas night.

Yes, it happened on Christmas night, but this is not a Christmas story. I promise.

A week earlier, I had been asked to substitute for the Beehive class in Young Women. I LOVE teaching and I was excited about this opportunity. The lesson was pretty much done before Christmas, but I still had not come up with a handout. I mean, what's a Young Women lesson without a handout? I had purchased some yummy Ghiradelli chocolates to use as part of the handout. Now, I had to type up a poem, print it out, use double stick tape and voila! A lovely handout would be finished.

I remembered that I had some patterned paper in the guest bedroom closet. That would be a lot nicer than plain white computer paper. I walked to the guest bedroom, opened up the closet, and started moving things around looking for the paper. Suddenly, a MOUSE ran out, scurrying right next to my feet!

Yes, right next to my feet!!!

Of course, I screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

And I screamed some more.

Somehow I leaped from in front of the closet to the bed several feet away. I don't even remember moving, but there I was, on the bed with my feet off the floor and away from any mouse creatures.

And I continued to scream.

Do you think I was just a teeny, weeny bit frightened?

Meanwhile...back in the family room, my dear family thought their wife and mother was completely bonkers.

Emily: "I think Mom may have seen a spider, Dad."

Ron: "Yeah. I think so, too."

Now, I have to admit I really, really don't like spiders either. Especially black widows. Or fat legged spiders. Or even Daddy Long-legs. Yes, I am a spider wimp. But I have NEVER screamed like that for a mere spider. Unless it was on top of me.

That happened once and I did react rather strongly.

Finally, my family came to investigate. Trembling, I pointed to the floor and said, "I saw a mouse! It went that way!"

I pointed towards Emily's bedroom, the laundry room, and my bedroom.

Emily decided to sleep on the couch that night.

Ron has bought traps. He bought an electric trap and placed it in the offending closet. He's bought glue traps and placed them up and down the hallway and in the kitchen--liberally dosed with peanut butter. He's bought spring traps and placed them in the garage.

It's been four days since I saw our unwanted visitor. Four days of looking down at the floor every time I walk down the hallway to make sure I don't step on a mouse. Four days of being worried that perhaps the mouse will jump out of another closet. Or cupboard. Or drawer. Four days of wondering if every strange noise could be the mouse.

We have not caught the mouse.

Ron thinks my screams scared the mouse so badly that it skedaddled out of the house--never to return.

I hope we are so lucky.

UPDATE: (Dec. 30) The mouse has been caught! Hallelujah!

Ron asked if I wanted a picture for memories sake. I said, "No thanks...seeing the mouse once was enough."