We have a mouse. Not the cuddly friendly Cinderella type mouse. The type that lives in a cabinet and is currently opening up a motel with a couple of bold roaches. We have a wonderful exterminator who has already taken care of it, and Josh isn’t afraid of mice, so you can guess who won’t be allowed to leave for work in the morning without checking the traps. Owning a home has taught me a lot of patience when it comes to unwelcome guests of the four-to-eight legged variety. It may not seem like much, but the fact that I didn’t call the exterminator last week when I saw a dead spider is huge personal growth for me. Yes, I can now accept the fact that dead bugs means the extermination is working, and it’s not a corpse left there to scare me by a spider army who will come attack me in my sleep one night. That fear might be a tad far-fetched. Also, I didn’t even threaten to move to a hotel when I found out about the mouse this afternoon. More spiritual growth. But I will probably burn everything that touched any of those cabinets. I’m thinking about hiding Josh’s car keys so he can’t leave for work without checking the mouse traps and sterilizing everything within a 10 foot radius of the offending cabinet. Hey–I’ve come a long way in a year. Don’t expect too much to soon. It’s a mouse after all. The exterminator reassured me that our house is one of the mildest he’s seen. I thought, “How can people live with more than one roach at a time?! You’ve seen them crawling on the ceiling?!” I immediately envisioned some type of weird roach hoarding situation. Anyway, I will understand if you’re all so repulsed by the mouse and roach trespassing in my cabinet that you never want to set foot in our house again. Really, if I didn’t live here I might feel the same way. Which reminds me of something I overheard Emmeline praying outside last night:
“Dear God, help me be brave and brave in the dark and remember it’s not scary; it’s just bugs.” I’ve tried not to pass my paranoia onto her, but it’s so all-encompassing that some of it was bound to stick. I may have to steal that prayer from her. “It’s not scary; it’s just bugs.” Scratch that–it’s terrifying.