MouseThe small brown thing appeared from nowhere. It was scampering quickly but it didn’t take long to realize it was a mouse. When this happens, every self respecting woman immediately climbs onto a chair and screams “eeeek…..a mouse.” Which is what I did. What I forgot was that there was no one home to hear me. The cell phone was out of reach as was, sadly, the bottle of wine which I thought would come in handy at this time.

Then I remembered: I have cats….yes, real live honest to goodness cats in whom DNA resides to attack and kill the mouse to protect their mother. They’ll help. I call…”.Basil and Oscar…come to the kitchen….mummy has something for you. “ Nothing….no response whatsoever. Silly me…. they like their nicknames… I try again….”Basie and Ossie….mummy has a treat for you’….still nothing. Then I remember that all truths are written on cocktail napkins and the one that says “cats don’t answer, they take a message and get back to you” is probably appropriate for this situation. And anyway the one with claws is only interested in fine upholstery..

So I’m still on the chair, without a phone or the wine, which is becoming more important every minute. Every once in a while I utter “eeek…a mouse” just because it seems like the right thing to do. Suddenly, I see the mouse slither into what looks like a hole in the pantry and head outside. I’m saved! But what if he returns! I climb down from my chair, grab the cell phone, the wine, a straw and get back on the chair. (There’s no time to reach for a glass.)

I call my husband. There’s a mouse in the house and the cats are no help and I’m on a chair. Do you have any suggestions….in other words how soon can you be home to help me with this dire situation? He says he knows about the little hole in the pantry and he’ll fix it.   How big was the mouse? About the size of a small turkey, I say. Then how did it get in and out of the pencil sized hole? (Really???? At his age he should know that specificity and stark terror don’t go hand in hand)

Why do you sound funny, he says. It sounds like you’re drinking a milkshake. No it’s wine….it must be the straw. He asks….Do you know that drinking wine through a straw can make you drunk fast? I’m counting on that, I say. This has been…..and continues to be…..a trauma. Do you think that I dare get down from the chair?

I thought that cell phones had been improved to the point that one rarely encountered a dead spot or a dropped call. Surely he wouldn’t hang up on me. Would he?