I can't contain the rant. I'm sorry. I have to go off somewhere.

A grown woman having a complete meltdown because she THINKS that there might be a mouse in the house.
These people breed.
These people vote.
These people think that it's perfectly acceptable to teach children to have a complete and utter meltdown.

"Okay so I've been debating whether to post this because I'm convinced people will think I'm an incapable human being at life and adulthood but I've figured they're right and I may as well.

Today I saw a mouse in my sons room.

A mouse.

Stewart Little has decided to come in my house and set up camp near my sons drawers. (Not his pants American people, his clothes drawer thing) I saw it and I froze

And it was the kinda freeze that you feel like you shouldn't even breathe. Where your air escapes your lungs.

I'm trying to find my pulse again when my daughter decided to strut into the room with her toddler swag and I screamed no! And it wasn't just any no. It was the loudest noooooooooooooooooooooo I've ever made in my life.

So I shut the door and I leave little Jerry (Tom's mate) to his own devices.

I decided to call my husband because there's a mouse in the house, and when there is a mouse in the house other than blow torching the house down there isn't much in the way of rational thinking.

He answers the phone and I say "mouse" I stutter because I'm terrified. This is no Mickey Mouse okay. This is ratatouille but smaller and he isn't making some delicious soup, he's gonna spray out pebble poo and make babies everywhere and in my sons ears and they'll crawl in my mouth... mouse in my mouth!!!
'Huh?' He says

'Mouse in house' I say still shaken
'Cat in hat' he replies.

'No babe, there's a mouse in Luca's room! You need to come home NOW and take it outside!'
'Oh Bub you just take it outside, or just kill it'
'Kill it???'

Obviously this guy hasn't seen the movie 'Witches' where the witch turns into a mouse after eating soup and gets stomped on by the chef and green pus sprays out.

'There are children in the house, your children. You need to come here. I can't save them'

He laughs. He thinks I'm joking.

This face isn't joking. This face is scared that this mouse is going to radio the rescuers and call his other mice friends to come and have a pebble poo party orgy. NOT ON MY WATCH MOUSE. Not on my watch.

But of course he can't see my face because he's on the phone.

'Okay I'm being serious there's a mouse in the house and I'm FREAKING OUT' I actually did swear but I'll try and be cool in the post. Pretty sure I called the mouse the C word.

'Where is it?' He asks
'In Luca's room'
'Where?'
'I dunno I'll open the door'

I open the door so slowly...inch by inch in snail speed, so slow that I can hear my husband asking if I'm still there. Lol

And it's there. In the same spot.

'It's dead!!!!!' I shut the door.
Oh my lord the mouse is dead. I have a DEAD mouse in my house. I start to cry a little bit
'It's dead... it never had a chance to live its life'
'Babe just go scoop it up with a piece of paper and put it in the bin. I have to go to a meeting'

So I hung up on him. Because obviously I'm alone in this. I'm alone and I need to be the brave one... so I take a couple of swigs of whiskey and say 'okay Laura, today is the day you will fight your biggest fear in life and remove a dead mouse from your house'

I said this about 10 times in the mirror before and slapped myself a few times before I bolted down the door and went charging in like a knight in shining armour with a piece of paper screaming like the warrior woman I am and charge up onto this dead mouse in my house and I realise ...

I realise it's not a mouse.

No, not a mouse at all...

It's a tiny leopard...

A tiny toy leopard.

I nod to myself and say 'we shall never tell a soul about this'

My husband got home 4 hours later and asked me how I went....'I handled that [censored]'"

Do they make traps for tiny toy leopards?

Why is it acceptable to be helpless? How in god's green earth do we think that it's "cute" to be paralyzed with fear and terror? Does anyone really think it is adorable and feminine to have to call you in absolute terror to deal with the big bad mouse? Or snake, or cockroach or spider or god knows what else. "Oh my god! Help me! Save me! I'm not a fully functioning human being!"

Mice, like rats, create fear because we associate them with disgust, waste, filth, infestation and disease...totally appropriate with regards to "negativity."

Not dealing with them, and waiting for "someone else to take care of it" is the unacceptable part.

If "1" bully is picking on you, "you" need to stand up for yourself, or at least "try." We should not simply run home and tell "mommy."

...------

Addendum: Good initial story.

...!

There are only a few times in my life where I've experienced the life or death adrenaline rush. One of them was about 6 years ago shortly after we moved to DFW. I was in the back room when I heard my wife scream. The blood curdling scream reserved only for torture/murder/rape situations. I grabbed my gun and made a mad dash into the front room.

Using the wall as cover, I swept the back half of the living room. Then I stepped out and swept the front half. Gun was up, I was doing my best to keep covered and silent while checking every corner and possible ambush point. Realizing the living room and kitchen was clear, I proceeded into the entry way. It was there I discovered my wife high stepping in the doorway while pointing in the corner. One of those tiny baby geckos was sitting calmly on the wall.

That was probably the second closest I've ever been to shooting my wife.

Extremely close to something that happened to me in Fort Davis. I'm taking a shower and this lady gives "I'm being murdered and on fire!!!!" scream. I stick my head around the corner ready to kill whatever is making her scream with a tiny bar of soap and she's losing her mind over a centipede on the wall. It's a big centipede, but it's still just a bug on the wall.

They make riot shotguns for just those types of situations. Debris can be cleaned up and damage repaired after you shoot the mouse/leopard,WTH ever.

That's awesomeness

You should just have thrown some of that good food you cook into the room. Pretty soon you would have a nice plump house pet. The poor mouse was probably homeless and needed a leg up in life. They are hard to train to use a litter box, however.

Yesterday I'm at the office and my phone rings. It's the wife telling me we have a new pet. She saw a mouse.

Last week the exterminator was out because the housekeeper saw mouse droppings and cleaned out the pantry.

The exterminator will be back later today.

It's cool ...
I don't do rats or snakes I will seriously scream like a little girl and run . I can do west dallas at 2 am.
I can do 30 foot in the air on my tip toes on top of a scissor lift not harnessed off. I can run hordes of meth heads out of my neigbor hood . I can do lots of things with 0 fear but not snakes and def not rats I feel your pain lol