The Mouse

So it’s about time to head downtown for Mikie’s ear checkup. We scramble to find socks that match, put our shoes on, who needs a coat? – the normal drill. Jack heads out first and I come out behind Mike and Molly telling Bean we’ll be back later. Jack starts yellin’. And carrying on. I roll my eyes as I walk behind the kids figuring it just goes along with Jack’s lack-o-sleep lately. As we get closer, I realize he’s yelling about a mouse. Sure enough, there is a little mouse running in circles in the garage. Under their dump truck, Gator, round and round he went. I downplayed it with Jack asking him why he was freaking like that – “is it on your face or something?” and saying “no” in response to my own question. So I tell the kids to hop in the truck. As I’m buckling Molly into her carseat on the driver’s side Jack says the mouse went under the truck. Well, you’d better BELIEVE I hopped up on the running board, buckled Mol in her carseat and proceeded to climb over her and the diaper bag and misc goodies on the truck floor and climbed into the front seat. I wasn’t getting back out! Was the mouse on my face? Nope. At least I didn’t scream :)