I hate mice.

Warning: this photo has nothing to do the post. It actually is like the opposite of this post. I mean, if you wrote a post about nasty spiders, would you put a picture of a nasty spider? *shiver*

I hate mice. Maybe fear is a better word, but when a little 5 year old girl asked me “Why are you afraid of cute little mice?” I really didn’t have a satisfactory answer. “Uh, because they run fast..” Well done Madison that is a totally sensible reason to be afraid of something. NOT.

I have had to keep my door closed because otherwise my cat will bring mice in in the night.  Each night I will spend a good minute deliberating whether to let my cat stay in my room or close the door in her face. Most nights I let her stay, though this does mean getting up at 2am to let the spoilt cat out.

I was brushing my teeth when I heard my cat miaowing erratically. I turn the corner and I am confronted with a (speedy) mouse in my room – alive. Oh yeah, did I mention that? This cat brings them in alive. My cat then preceeds to get a snack because she thinks her work is done. She plays dumb but really she’s got tricks up her sleeve.

I scream uncontrollably (I would say I can be mostly fearless but this is a different level), and it is not long before someone comes to my rescue. Of course, I’m totally cool, but I did run downstairs to the safety of the foyer.

I turn around.

There is a mouse flying down towards me.

I scream.

And run.

It took me a good 5 minutes before I had the nerve to run back upstairs.

Apparently the mouse just ran and jumped without thinking that THERE MIGHT HAVE BEEN A HUMAN THERE.

I mean, what are the chances? Geesh. I want to find a really cool moral of the story but how can there be any moral to that, I mean really.

Hope your day went better than mine.

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