What lies beneath (my roof) (warning - angry cussing language)

If you have read the post Rodents and I (in September file), you know I wake up in the middle of the night ravenous. Baby is growing up a storm and is hungry.

These days I slide off of the bed feet first without seating up, pretty much falling to the floor. Seating up takes abdominal muscles, which must be dormant by now, even though I plank my way through the mornings. I always land with a THUMP that makes my husband squirm for a bit, turning around and sequestering my preggo pillow away to his side of the bed.

Once on my feet, I reach out for my crunchy protein bars, which I find with the light of my cell phone. Then I check facebook while I munch away, because in Brazil it's already morning and unimportant but important things are starting to happen on facebook news.

A few nights ago, however, I heard another crunch that felt outside my head. I stopped between bites and listened, bringing my head to the wall of the bedroom. Something else seemed to also have the munchies in the middle of the night and is living in my walls.

I heard of raccoons living in people's walls in order to have babies in this region and my first reaction to this was, "How cute!" but now what came out loud from my mouth full of crumbs was, "You little fucker!" which made my husband turn in bed and mumble, "Huh?"

It all started one night, when the yard sensor lights came off out of the blue several times that evening, brightening up our room. My husband and I alternated looking out the window for a suspicious intruder. We saw nothing. I thought, "Either there is a very small Mexican thug hiding by the grapevines or this thing detects ghosts."

The next night, while watching TV, my husband set up abruptly, with a panicked look on his face. "What?" I asked, now panicked too. I was shushed. "Be very still!" he whispered, and I pictured Jason from Friday, the 13 standing behind me with a knife.

"What is it?" I asked. "Just listen!" he whispered again, then he proceeded to move towards the kitchen with cat-like movements and Marine-like skills. My heart was racing and in my head I am thinking, "Where is that freaking shalaylee that was such a pain to bring through airport security when you need it?"

Then I heard it, right above our heads, crunch, crunch, crunch... "We have roommates" I finally said. I listened a little while longer, and completed, now concerned, "and they are not small."

My husband took on the mission to solve the mystery by setting up mice traps around the house. He is still convinced it is something small. His explanation, "the neighbors just cut their tall grass, so those things get out and invade other people's homes."

In the middle of that night, while munching away, I heard a loud CLECK of the mouse trap in the garage (yes, I have super hearing powers too). I poked at my sleeping husband, "I think we have a suspect," I said. He mumbled, "Huh?"

The next morning, my Marine approached the garage with cat-like caution and came back with a strange look on his face. "What?" I asked. "It's still alive and it's a baby" he said, weird expression still on his face. "Nooooo," I cried. "We can't let it die! What if his mom is looking for him?"

I have heard that when you are nesting while pregnant, you start to understand all mothers and that's where my mind was when I said, "We have GOT to release it!"

Now it's the evening and picture this: my husband is walking fast by our dim lit street while a waddle right behind him. He has a plastic bag where a live baby mouse is trapped. "I can't believe we are doing this. You are turning me into a softy, you know?" he kept on saying.

He decided that the best place to release it was by the field where bunnies hang out. "What if there is a vicious little bunny there, like the one from Monty Python?" I said, and he rolled his eyes. I walked away about twenty feet. It's a mouse, after all, and I don't want to see it decide to crawl up on me.

From a distance I see the silhouette of my husband by the field light. He opens the bag, walks away, then un-click the trap, walks away, then picks up the trap, something little falls, he walks away. The something little doesn't move. "Noooooo!" I yell. I see my husband's head turn towards me, then look down at the something little. "It's dead," he says, but then the something little crawls up a bit and we decide to leave.

We came home feeling somewhat victorious. We caught the pest and we didn't completely kill it.

Just like a scary movie, though, and just as we were about to fall asleep (scary movie music please), the yard lights came on again.

I still think it is something bigger than a ratatouille family, though. Stay tuned.

1 comment:

  1. Okay look I love this, but you are just too funny I started laughing so hard at the Monty Python sentence that I couldn't read the rest till I stopped laughing. I am crying now from laughter. I hope everything turns out fine. Ahh.. to be pregnant.


Follow Me on Pinterest