That Kind of Week

It never ceases to amaze me how the ridiculous things in life seem to clump together. You know, like when you can't find your car keys and you look everywhere, finally find them and are ready to head out the door, but then you can't locate your cell phone and so you call yourself from your land line, trying to listen for the ring and then you remember the battery is dead and so you have to search and of course it is right where you left it, plugged into the charger IN THE CAR and then when you arrive at your destination you realize you forgot your purse/wallet/money/grocery-list/coupons/you get the point and the story goes on and on and on. (INHALE! There's nothing quite like a good run-on sentence to set the mood....)

Or how about when you want to take pictures of something cute your kids are doing and you realize the camera battery is dead so you reach for the camcorder and find out that you have no film, so you decide to use your cell phone and find you are all out of space and by the time you delete enough photos to take the picture, your kids are off doing something far less amusing like pouring out the cat's litter box and food all over the basement floor. (SOLLY!)

Well, that's the kind of week I have been having. You've got to know it is one of those weeks when  you manage to step on a dead mouse in the gym parking lot the day after you clean up the dead Robin on your deck (who killed himself flying into the window, stupid bird....betcha wish you couldn't afford to fly now, don't ya, poor little robin?!)

I had forgotten about this incident actually......yes, it is in fact possible to step right into the middle of a squished pile of oozing mouse and forget about it ten minutes later.....How, you ask? Have five kids and then get back to me.

As I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself, I had forgotten about stepping into the smear of dead mouse until I was doing some physical therapy exercises later that evening and heard something scratching around in the walls. I didn't think much of it as I have all but surrendered to the fact that despite owning an eager and hungry predatory animal, we attract, and probably breed, the little buggers in our basement. I just shrugged my shoulders at the sound of scattering about in the fireplace and went to bed, leaving the hunting for the cat.

The next morning, after throwing my neck into a knot of spasms while rolling out of bed in just the wrong fashion, I proceeded to make my tomato-cheese-egg scramble when I realized I needed something downstairs. At the bottom of the staircase, I was met with a very happy kitty, gnawing away on a long-tailed, headless creature. At first all I saw was the tail shooting out of his mouth but then he decided to give me a nice little showing of the headless mouse as if to brag about his accomplishment. For some ill-conceived reason, it was at that point I tried to get Leroy to let go so that I could throw the carcass away before it made a big, bloody mess on the carpet. He clamped down hard, teeth against bone, and out shot what appeared to be a tiny stomach, duodenum and all. (At least, it is what I imagine my stomach would look like if I were a mouse...) I was so revolted yet so completely mesmerized by the tiny body part that I snatched it up in a plastic bag and took it to show everyone upstairs. (Yes, I really did.)

Needless-to-say, no one else was quite as fascinated. And no one enjoyed anymore of their breakfast either I don't think, myself included.

Later that evening, the girls, Liam, Solly and I went to the craft store to find little chickens to make Madeline's diorama for a school project, because what more fun could you possibly imagine having than taking four small children to the craft store late on a Friday night? We searched for an hour and could not find exactly what we were looking for (seriously, you'd think chickens would be easier to come by y'all). We finally opted for some brown pom-poms, googly eyes and colored paper from which we shall attempt to make our own darn chickens. I have to admit, I couldn't help but think, if only she were doing a story about dead mice.....actually, given that she has a first year teacher, the shock value alone might be worth making one up.....

And THIS is why I am not writing everyday in October....

Have a nice Sunday! You know, if you can get the images of dead animals out of your head.....