Recently, I found evidence of a mouse in my beauty shop. I was not a happy camper. Something had to be done quickly. Though it appears I am hard-nosed and calloused most of the time, when it comes to murdering mice, I am a little bit tender. Still the problem existed and had to be solved, so I hired a hit man, namely my husband. I mentioned to him one day that I needed some mouse poison for the shop, knowing he would be Johnny on the spot and handle it. Whew, that eradicated the problem. My conscience was seared, as I left this horrible agenda in the hands of a very capable person. I went on my merry way, and forgot about the unpleasantries of the task before him.
I must be really good at checking out mentally, when it behooves me, because I never thought of it again, until…..
Last week, I sat at my computer in the beauty shop writing, reading and thinking. That is a dangerous combination, but one that happens frequently. I had a pen in hand, making notes and trying to stimulate the creative juices, I have heard exist. In the middle of the process, the phone rang. I jumped up to answer the phone and when I returned, I discovered the pen had fallen onto the floor and rolled underneath the computer. I tried to get it, but it had rolled too far for me to reach. Not to be outdone by an inanimate object, I planned my attack and declared war. With great assurance of the task before me, I took a towel and swung it at the pen, trying to drag it out from under the table. Victory was mine! I laid the towel on the table and bent to pick up the pen. I was well pleased with the great cunning I had used to solve the problem and I had done it, without the benefit of seeking guidance. With the taste of victory still in my mouth, I sat back down in an effort to finish my writing. Studiously, I laid my elbow on the towel. When I lifted my elbow, the towel was stuck to me. Perturbed at another distraction, I asked myself “What the heck?” I pulled the towel and something black flew into my hair. The black thing was still attached to the towel. I squealed a little bit. I thought I had flipped a bug or something similar in my face and hair with the towel. In full-blown panic, I slapped the unwanted intruder out of my hair. Well, that was the plan anyway. What really happened was, my left hand got stuck in my hair along with the black thing and the towel. My wonderful attitude was going up in smoke by leaps and bounds. Because this was a scary thing, I did a little dance in an attempt to free myself. I finally got the little black thing and the towel out of my hair, with my right hand, but now, it was stuck to that hand too!
“Are you kidding me?* I muttered through clenched teeth. After struggling for about 5 minutes, I rescued myself. It was at that glorious point, the Einstein in me caught on. Jerry did not purchase poison. Instead, he had bought sticky traps.
We did not catch the mouse.
I’m sure it is only paranoia, but I believe with all my heart, the mouse was watching the show and if mice have a sense of humor, that one laughed..
p.s. I did not mention the incident to Jerry, until…
The next day, A light bulb burned out on one of the nail dryer stations. It was for feet near the floor. Jerry, so efficient, laid on his back and reached underneath the dryer. When he sat up, a little black thing was in his hair. He didn’t tell me right away. He suspected I would laugh. Of course I laughed! From my standpoint, it was just retribution and could not have happened to a nicer guy!
After laughing at him unmercifully, I fessed up! He loved it!
I doubt we will ever get rid of that mouse, the entertainment is too good!