My mouse story

Hi, Everyone.
Debra shared her baby mice story yesterday (BTW--I'm scarred for life, picturing you bopping baby mice on the head, Debra!), so I thought I'd share my mouse story.
This happened about 5 years ago. I was at my highest weight (400) and still teaching High School English. I was no longer able to sleep in a bed, so the living room recliner filled in. Needless to say, I didn't sleep much better in it.
While I can't prove it, it seemed that as my body grew heavier, my bladder shrank. I was up and down, all night long. It was during one of these nocturnal potty breaks that the "fun" began.
Since I'm a girl and can manage this, and since I had hopes that if I didn't turn the bathroom light on while I tinkled, I'd not quite wake up and would, therefore, go right back to sleep, I sat down, in the dark. As I'm finishing my business, something "told" me to turn on the light. I've learned always to pay attention to those intuitive nudges, so I reached up (still sitting) and turned on the light.
That's when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye...a skittering [shiver].
Immediately, my feet went up, parallel to the floor, as my eyes darted hither and yon. I seemed to know that the critter was behind the trash recepticle, WAY too close to me. I thought, "What am I supposed to do?!" Maybe it had just been my imagination.
No such luck! It peeked out at me, and it was a dark gray RAT!
I jumped up, and in one unbelievably fluid motion, for my girth, I jumped on the counter, sweeping every face and body care product out of the way.
There I sat, on top of the bathroom counter, with my feet on the side of the bathtub, trying to breathe my way back to some semblance of reality and to still my pounding heart.
"Now, what do I do?" I asked no one in particular. I was trying to decide if a rat could and would climb the side of my new perch. The idea was unacceptable, so, while I knew my hubbie would not be thrilled at the early wake-up, I began to yell, "Chris! Chris!"
Nothing! Obviously, Chris had stand-up fan AND ceiling fan on upstairs, in the bedroom, and probably had the door shut, as well. Deciding to use my loudest, best teacher voice, I yelled, "Christopher Bruce Law, I need you down here RIGHT NOW!"
In 2 seconds, I could hear my rescuer pounding down the stairs. "What? What's going on? Where are you?" he yelled.
"I'm in the bathroom," I said.    Silence.
"What's wrong...and this better be good."
"There's a HUGE rat in here, and you have to KILL IT."
Doorknob rattles.
"Well, you need to unlock the door."
ARE YOU KIDDING ME! That stupid doorknob hadn't locked in years...until tonight!
"I can't believe that door is locked! I can't get down from this counter, Chris. Seriously! [begins to cry] You're going to have to take the door off or something."
Silence.
"All right. Just let me get some tools." [exasperation]
Of course, with all the yelling, the rat had come out of hiding, from behind the trash can, and had run underneath our clawfoot bathtub [shiver].
Fearing what might happen to our bathroom door, after Chris' 2:30 a.m. attack on it, I thought, "If I can scoot over far enough, I might be able to reach the doorknob and unlock it."
Very carefully, I inched over, over, over, trying not to scare the rat into running. I wanted to be able to tell Chris exactly where he could find that thing, so he could KILL IT.
Inch by inch, I scooted, and then...it happened. My ample behind went "slurp," right down into the sink. I thought, "Oh, Lord, I'm going to be stuck in this sink when my husband comes through that door!"
Saying a "Help me, God" prayer, I pulled up and out of the sink [I owe You one, Lord], perched myself on the far edge of the counter and proceeded to L   E   A   N.  No matter how hard I tried, I could not reach the doorknob.
I looked around me and saw a can of hair mousse, with the cap off, leaving the needle-looking pressure spout. Grabbing it, I   L   E   A   N   E   D once again. I have no idea how I did it, but I unlocked the door!
When Chris returned with the tools, I said, "I got the door unlocked!" [giddy]
As Chris began to turn the doorknob, I said, "Hey, do you have a broom with you?"
"No, dear. That didn't happen to be in my tool kit." [cynical]
Letting out my best "humpf" sound, I said, "Go get a broom. How else do you expect to kill this rat, and, trust me, you WILL KILL IT. It is NOT getting out of this bathroom alive, and I mean that!"
Stomping away, Chris retrieved the broom, opened the door, and walked in.
"Shut the door! Shut the door!" I screamed, which, of course, made the RAT run and my husband jump into the tub. All I could think of was, "My hero" [cynical disappointment]
From the safety of the tub, my husband began to beat the rat. There it lay...dead. My husband stepped out of the tub and tore off a paper towel, so he could pick it up.
By this time, I was shivering, barely able to manage repeating "Ew, Ew, Ew."
As my husband touched the rat, to pick it up, it got up and ran. I screamed, "It's NEVER going to die!" What can I say...I was traumatized.
With broom in hand, once more, my husband was on a search and destroy mission. Finally, success! One more paper towel, and Chris held up the object of my night of terror--a very small gray mouse.
I didn't like the "And you call yourself educated?" look that my husband gave me.
"In my defense, it looked much bigger. I was in a panic, OKAY?!"
Shaking his head, my husband flushed the carcass down the toilet. NOTE TO SELF:  Buy a new toilet (which we did).
"You can get down now, honey."
"Will you bring me some shoes? I can't walk on this floor." NOTE TO SELF:  Get a new floor (which we didn't).
Shaking his head, my husband humored me and brought the shoes.
"Now, can I go back to bed for what's left of the night?"
"Yes, Honey." Still perched on the counter, as I'm putting on my shoes, I hear my husband climbing the stairs.
"Honey?" I say, as sweetly as possible.
"Y E S," he replies, in a tone of voice that meant, "This would not be a good time to make another request."
"I just want to say that you're my knight in shining Fruit of the Loom."
With a giggle, he was gone. I got down, still shivering, went for the mop, pail, and Mr. Clean, and while I was mopping, I was praying that the mouse didn't have a spouse or children in my house!"
And that's my mouse story! Thanks for reading.
Mary

Mary that is so funny!  I'm in the room waiting during Camille's surgery and this story made me laugh to the point that Jerry keeps looking at me like what in the world.

I was secretly hoping you'd be able to read it while you were waiting or that you'd read it to Camille later, when she needs some distraction. :)  And, yes, it's all true.

Giggle, that made me laugh!  Around our house, we have several rodent-types as pets...mice, hamster, guinea pig, et al.  We used to have one mouse, Daisy, who was a lil snuggle bunny and would love nothing more than to take a trip in a pocket, purse, whatnot.  Well, here Daisy sat inside the cup of my bra, head peeking out.  I went out to get the mail, and ran into my neighbor (who is known for being a dirty old man, geez).  I always suspected that he would catch unwarrented and unwanted glances at the neighborhood women, but that day, I got my proof.  During simple conversation, he tells me that my chest is moving and has been for a good 10 minutes..ummm..hellloooo...and then, up pops Daisy, giggle.  I swear that man about hit the pavement.  Good ending to the story, tho...he never was caught peeking again, probably afraid of what else could possibly crawl out of my undergarments, snickersnort.

Oh my goodness! That is TOO funny! It wouldn't be, had it happened to me, though. I would have disrobed right there in front of The Christian Bookstore! [shaking my head] [giggling] :)

Oh my gosh... that was absolutely hysterical.  I'm still chuckling.  You have a very sweet husband to take care of the big bad mouse!!  My kitties like to catch mice and then they play with them.  Every so often, the mouse gets away and I have to wonder where he gets off to or the kitties will deposit them into my son's bed!

Ew, Ew, Ew. I can't imagine having a kitten/cat that would play with a mouse! Once, we had a mouse that ONLY I saw! We'd never had mice, so my husband thought I was seeing things (this was a long time ago). Anyway, I made him set traps everywhere, and I kept the bottom of the doorway to our bedroom stuffed with towels (below the door), because I figured that would keep the mouse out of our bedroom until it got caught. I had to believe that, anyway. Thankfully, the mouse was caught 3 days later.
My husband is sweet. :)

I had a friend who went to potty late one night, sat down and the mouse that was hiding in the toilet jumped up and bit her on the bottom!  I pretty much always turn the light on now, even in the middle of the night.

Are you kidding me?! Oh, my! I will ALWAYS turn on the light now! [shivers]

The story itself is funny, but the way you tell it makes it hysterical!