Mouse Hunt

I'm hearing things

not voices

just ....rustling

I've been by myself quite a bit this weekend (and had a HUGE pity party last night -- sorry none of you could join me -- there were chips!)

where was I

rustling.

GAH

Last year I had a mouse -- (yes -- I know -- technically, there's no such thing as having one mouse -- but humor me -- I only saw one mouse and after Bob -- yes -- I named him Bob -- "passed away" -- there were no more mice. I live in a country setting -- Bob was a country mouse -- not a crass city-mouse who brings all his brothers and sisters and cousins)

Last year I had a mouse -- and it drove me crazy

and now --

we have RUSTLING

ewww

I only hear it when I'm in bed

and the house is silent

When I get up - and go to the bathroom

the rustling stops

tricky bastard.

This morning -- I awoke to more rustling -- and I thought I had it pin pointed until the damned A/C clicked on -- covering his tracks (it's just warm enough here that the A/C still comes on from time to time)

damn

finally the A/C cycled off.

more rustling

this time -- close to the edge of the bed

crap

there's a mouse -- in my ROOM!!!!

rustle rustle rustle

wow -- it's close

I look around the bed and see that there's a shopping bag that I left on the floor (hey -- I've had a shitty week -- my place is a mess)

I gingerly reach down

bracing myself that when I touch the bag -- a little grey blur will race out and make me scream like a little girl -- or jump up on a chair and hold my skirt like some sort of character in a Tom and Jerry cartoon.

I hate mice

I touch the bag

no grey blur

then I pick up the bag and shake it.

a Beetle shakes out of the bag ---ambling across the carpet....relieved that it's finally free of its plastic prison.

Is there a moral to this story?

"Don't make a mouse out of a beetle?

somehow I don't think it's going to catch on as an aphorism