My Fresh Hell
Life in Scribbletown.

Red's the Screamer

Here’s how I like to spend a day off:

• Making cookies (with an assortment of cookie cutters including a bat, pumpkin, ghost and Christmas Snoopy) and whole wheat bread (the yeast kind) with Dusty.

• Inventing a bird food with Dusty. Ingredients include peanut butter, rolled oats, wheat germ, sunflower seeds, chopped almonds (ie, whatever’s on hand). To make, mix all ingredients well and form into balls. Or blobs. Or just toss the mess in a cake pan and place outside in a sheltered place. Be sure to lick your hands really good after mixing just to make sure it's edible.

I’ll let you know how the wildlife appreciated our efforts. Dusty’s previously made pinecone rolled in peanut butter and sunflower seeds is missing (she’d hung it on the apple tree with pipe cleaners) so…I have a feeling they’ll like this one, too.

• Discovering that Red has found
religion. And so close to a Major Holiday at that! All the way home from daycare tonight and all through dinner, she continuously yelled, “Oh God! Oh Gaahhhddd!” I can’t imagine where she heard that.

Here’s how I prefer not to spend a day off:

• Finally taking the empty boxes of tree decorations back down to the basement and discovering a dead mouse. On the bottom step. The mouse that had, a week before, been spotted scurrying along the wall of the family/tv room. I’m happy to report that d-con works beautifully.

• Sweeping the dead mouse from bottom basement step (which I’d for a small moment thought I’d stepped on during trip #1 because he looked so flat but, on further inspection, was merely less fat due to a death by poison. Not to mention the fact that clearly his soul had long since left his cute grey little body.) into a plastic Food Monger bag (they DO serve a purpose!) and placing it in the outside trash receptacle.

I will say this. I have very few girly qualities. I can't fix up my hair. I'm horrible at applying makeup. And I do not scream. I have tried to scream. But I cannot do it. When confronted by – SURPRISE! – a dead rodent (I am also not afraid of rodents; I had some as pets as a youth), I merely grunt out a soft “uhh!” and take care of the problem.

Same with snakes. Not particularly afraid of them but don’t really want to suddenly find I’ve inadvertently annoyed one, either. They mind their business, I mind mine.

So, when I saw our poor late little furry ball of pestilence, I just uhh-ed and swept him up. Not pleasant but coulda been worse, you know? I mean, it’s not like I was confronted by a roomful of hungry, pissed off rats. Or spitting cobras. THAT might actually cause me to scream. Maybe.


8:04 p.m. ::
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