Mice Can Fly

Scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch . . . I tried to ignore it but discovered that ignoring it wouldn’t make the reality of a mouse in the bedroom go away.

The lights went on.

I quietly stalked the scratching creature, but I am not a good hunter when I am only in my underclothing.

The lights went off.

Moments later, the small creature ran across my chest and over my pillow. “Get up!” I yelled to my wife. “There is a mouse in the bed!”

The lights went on.

Now we were both stalking the creature. My wife saw it first running along the wall. I knew that I would be facing the task of disposing of the creature and looked around for something to use. That is when I saw my winter gloves sitting on my shelf by my bed. I put them on and returned to the hunt.

The mouse ran into our closet and with a little coaxing from Brenda, it ran behind a small set of drawers into my gloved hands. Now what? I didn’t want to kill it but I must be a man in front of my wife. “Squish it ?” I thought as the mouse wiggled inside of my gloved palms. “Throw it into the yard!” said Brenda. With great relief at not needing to sacrifice my male ego, we ran down the hall to the front door. She opened the door, I swung my arms, opened my gloved hands and saw with my own eyes that mice can fly. The small furry dark spot flew into the dark night sky and disappeared.

We both stood there disrobed with the front door wide open, but I wasn’t embarrassed because I was wearing gloves.