This morning, I had trouble figuring out what to wear. Well, even more than that, I had trouble getting to what I wanted to wear. I also realized that as the mother of boys, I have to toughen up enough to be sure they will be manly.
It's 6:30 a.m. I'm starting the morning when I hear scratching and tapping just outside my husband's closet. I begin to call to B loudly to wake up, but the sound continues. A quick peek reveals my gut wrenching fear: a small grey mouse. It scampers back into the closet. I try to brush my teeth on a nearby chair. It peeks out again, despite all the racket I'm making stomping around, then scampers back. I haul tail to my husband, yanking him out of bed for the emergency. He is not amused, and tells me that the mouse is more scared of me than I am of it. I insist this is not true, since it keeps coming out to mock me, and is probably going to attack me when I go to get my ensemble for the day out of the closet.
Josh searches for a mousetrap as I wake B, inform him of the mouse situation ("I know, Mama, I heard you tell Daddy.") and ask him if he's afraid of the mouse. "No, Mama, it's just a mouse!"
Good. I send him to the closet to get my pink sweater and brown shoes. Unfortunately, he has the genetic defect called a Y chromosome which impedes his ability to see things in front of his face. After pointing to the brown shoes--no, those brown shoes, for entirely too long, he offers to stand at the passageway between my husband's and my closet to "block the mouse." I point out that he will likely scare the mouse into running out of the closet and at me. We both realize that I am going to have to get the shoes, but he offers moral support. "You got em, Mama! No sign of him, yet!"
The trap is set. While I apply makeup I hear the snap, so I go to fetch Josh. "Can I see it, Mama?" B asks as I leave. "No!" I say too quickly, then realize: he is going to be some lady's man someday. I must raise him to be ablet to catch mice. What to do? If he sees the jittery, dying creature that's scratching on the trap it could ruin him for good. "Well," I tell him carefully, "It could be yucky. Ask your daddy if you can go with him."
I never thought mice would have this effect on me. I never thought I'd be such a whiny girl. Still, I asked Josh to throw out any clothes at the bottom of the closet, just in case they were a nest to Mousie's friends. And I'd hoped to fit into that bridesmaid dress again someday.