When I was a kid, the original movie of "Willard" hit the movie theaters. I really don't remember who decided it would be a good movie to see or who took me, but let me just say that I have been terrified of mice ever since that day! I have no problem admitting that those furry vermin can freeze me in my shoes. It doesn't matter whether they are dead or alive - I am terrified!
My fear of mice and my reaction to them came up the other night as a topic of conversation. My boys have rescued me from their jaws of death on numerous occasions. The Ninja has been called in to rescue me from the evil little creatures! I have good people in my life! There are countless stories of their heroism.
Living in the country has been great. I loved being able to send the kids outside without having to worry about their safety. What I should have worried about was what they could find. Calvin came running into the house one day with has hands cupped together yelling that he had found baby hamsters! I don't know who was more shocked. Me when he showed me a handful of baby mice, or him when I started screaming hysterically while running in place. It didn't take long for me to find out that living in the country means that these little critters find their way from farm fields to the house. Personally, I believe that they have conspired to locate my house and that they are plotting their terrorist acts to horrify me on a regular basis. No one told me that this problem was a possibility when we moved to the country. My family always lived in the city. Mice were not a problem back home!
I have found them in the kitchen, in the canoe by the pond. Of course they practically own the barn. The Orkin man told me recently that they can flatten themselves to the size of a dime. Great! Just what I need to make more nightmares. I actually remember sitting and watching television one evening and one took a little stroll in front of the entertainment center. Oh yes, one of the first nights we were in our house, "Doc" woke up in the middle of the night to scratching sounds. As he investigated, he found a mouse stuck inside our new bathtub unable to get out. Thank God it was him and not me!
If there was an Olympic event for reactions to mice, the Gold Medal would be mine. I have been known to leap onto a kitchen counter in less than five seconds. I could rival Superman leaping tall buildings in a single bound. Occasionally my family finds it humerous to evoke my spirited reaction. My son in law has a fishing pole that he casts in his living room. Whatever is on the end of the line looks just like a mouse as it is reeled in. I was given a large rubber rat for Halloween one year. And then there were the two soft furry mice that were placed in my Christmas stocking....
And so, in my infinite wisdom I accepted a fitness challenge from my future daughter in law and her mother. We all represent Visalus and committed to a 90 day challenge. I added additional challenges at the health club to reach my goals because if I don't reach them, I will be holding a mouse. I don't think so!!!!!! I have succeeded for the first 30 days. Stay tuned.....
Wife, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Nurse, Grandmother, Friend...that's me in a nutshell!