This week, I met a rodent-crushing soul mate. Now, this is not a story for the faint of heart. I would urge anyone with a love for rodents or a hate of a story of how one less rodent is living on this planet - to refrain yourself from reading further.
I have never much enjoyed rodents. Mostly mice and bats, but since our neighbor feeds squirrels and they are now eating my lawn furniture for lunch, I do include them in my "not enjoyable" category. It seems whenever these furry creatures have shown up in my different homes we have lived in through the years, that I have a fear and panic when they show up. Some have flown over my bed, eaten my Oreos out of our cupboard and have even scared me off the porcelain throne. Many of you may not know how frightening a small three inch mouse can be to those of us who do not put a welcome sign out for them.
As I mentioned above, this story is quite sad for rodent lovers - please be advised. I do not condone this type of behavior nor do I encourage people to hurt any type of animal - unless your life and the lives of your children are in jeopardy! This is where I begin.
Of course, my husband was not home on this night. I was home with my two young girls and one of their little friends. I strolled into my dark kitchen and heard something. It was not the girls giggling in the other room but a scurrying, scratching noise. I immediately stopped mid-stride. My mind went back to tormented nights of seeing bats flying over my head while laying in my bed, or sleeping with a tennis racquet under my husband's side of the bed - and it was not for his practice sessions at midnight! As I stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, I realized that this noise was coming from my sink. I slithered toward the sink in slow motion until I could peer over the edge. Yes, it confirmed my fears. There was a mouse in my sink! I must have let out a scream because the girls all ran into the kitchen to see what was happening. I was hopping up and down covering my mouth and trying to grab my phone to call 911. I pointed to the sink as the girls leaped up onto the opposite counter. They were giggling and squealing as they watched their mother try to protect their lives - okay, they were actually watching me jump up and down as they heard small screeching noises come from my hand covered mouth. I decided that the police may have more important matters to deal with than a mouse in my sink, although I could not imagine a more desperate situation as I looked into the beady little eyes of the furry creature eating food scraps and staring me right in the eyes. I decided to call one of our friends who would tell me how to deal with this situation. He was not much help as he laughed into the phone while I hyperventilated, trying to breathe as I told him that our lives were in danger. He jokingly mentioned the garbage disposal that was in the sink. Only, in my state of sheer panic and dizziness from the hyperventilation, I thought he had the answer to my problem. I looked over and spotted a bowl.
It happened so quickly, I can not be sure if what I write is what actually happened. I know that I trapped the rabid killer under the bowl. I turned on the water and, yes, the disposal. All I know is this - when I lifted the bowl, the mouse was gone! It was like a magic trick! Only, I tentatively forgot I had three young audience members watching this magic trick until I heard screams coming from behind me followed by a lot of "Ewww! Yuck!" and noses scrunched up behind their little hands that were covering their eyes. Oops. That is also when I remembered that I was on the phone - since my friend was yelling into my ear, "What was that?! You didn't actually turn on the disposal did you?!" I told him that it was HIS idea, but he called me a mouse murderer and I think I hung up.
For years, I have carried this burden of the disappearing mouse. I have told the story a few times and usually find it is not much of an "ice breaker", but just a conversation ender. I still don't like mice, but I look back and think that maybe I acted out of panic and wonder if there was another way out of the situation. Then, just as I came to the realization that I was a terrible person who caused terror in three young children - I met someone.
As I said, I do not condone or recommend this type of behavior. If you have children they will, as we say here in Michigan, "rat you out" - pardon the pun. This phrase means that when you are standing in a group of rodent lovers, they will choose this exact moment to bring up the time that you made one of their little friends magically disappear. Kids will always find the most inopportune time to share their story of terror when they once sat on a kitchen counter. This is exactly what happened to me this week.
We were sitting among a birthday gathering. Some of the people, we had just met that night. I was talking to a woman about our dislike of rodents invading our homes and sharing our experiences of the past. This is when my teen daughter decides that it is a great time to bring up my story of torture. Since this does not show my best attributes, I was worried we would be leaving the party early. This is when it happened. The woman I was speaking with begins to shriek and laugh and clap her hands! I was still confused and wondering if we should be packing up our things when she told me her own story. She understood my panic, my fear and even understood my
actions. This person, who I will not name, also used her disposal on a
rodent! The bat that had been terrorizing her home and children
"accidentally" fell into the sink, ergo, another disappearing trick!
I never thought I would meet a like-minded magician. We both
allowed fear and panic to drive us to eliminating our little invaders. Have you ever allowed fear to control your actions? I have allowed it to control me in other areas at times. Fear of failing has caused me to not try new things or not do something God has asked me to do. Fear of other people's acceptance has caused me to agree with the crowd instead of standing up for someone who was not there to stand up for themselves. Fear has stopped me from making new friends with others who I thought may not accept me as I am. Fear, at times, has taken control of my dark nights. Fear can not only take over parts of our lives, but it can take control of our entire life if we allow it to.
The Bible says, "do not fear, for I am with you". Why do we let fear stop us from doing what we want to do? Why are we afraid of what our future holds when, actually, God is right there with us? I think sometimes we see fear scurrying into our lives, nibbling at our confidence and we begin to panic. We forget that God really is with us and we don't need to act out in fear, but we can stand tall and walk in confidence. When you find yourself in a panic, just call out to your Father in Heaven and ask that He will remind you that He is there - no magic tricks required.
