Continuing my Mom story theme this week, I have a couple of really good ones for this morning. The common thread is: mice.
My Mom hates mice. She also hates cats (ooooh that makes me think of another good Mom story), but, she hates mice more. Growing up, there were a few times that I saw my Mom almost completely out of her wits because of a poor little mouse.
The first story isn’t one that I saw, but, one that I heard about. When I was just a little one, my Uncle Bo and my Dad were away for the weekend. I think it was National Guard stuff or something like that. That meant my Aunt Rosie, Mom’s older sister, was staying at the house with her. They apparently saw a small mouse in the bedroom and jumped up on furniture to get away from it while the mouse ran around on the floor below. The funny part of the story is that my Mom and Aunt Rosie stayed up on that furniture for a long time, afraid of that little mouse. I think the mouse must have been more afraid of them, though. Apparently, that poor little mouse ran around and around the room and finally keeled over dead in the middle of the bedroom floor. Hmmmm, now how are we going to get down? There’s a dead mouse in the middle of the floor! 🙂
The other occasion I remembered very well. The blood curdling scream that woke us from a peaceful slumber one morning. My Mom had gone to the kitchen to fix breakfast, opened the top kitchen drawer to get a spatula and out jumps a mouse! We lived on a farm, so, these things happened. I don’t think my Mom ever got used to the mice, though.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell you about the cat that got her goat! Love ya Ma!