Last week after spending several days hiding away in deep thought and writing, I was glad to be home to my simple, sweet life and beautiful family. What I was NOT glad to get home to was the…er…situation that had occurred while I was gone. You wouldn’t think anything this big could happen in less than a week, but apparently it can.
We have an official M-word situation.
I found out about it after I was doing some laundry. I was peacefully moving clothes from the washer to the dryer when James came in and said in a tone that was out of character for him, “Lisa, you need to go out of here for a minute.” It was the way he said it, so gentle and sweet, that sent me into immediate panic. Like when someone says to you, “Sit down honey, I have something to tell you,” in their most remain-calm voice. Fear goes up your spine.
And since we were doing things that were out of the ordinary, I just left the room. I put the wet laundry down and walked away. James must have been kind of surprised at my lack of arguing because he called after me, “Well look at you being all submissive!”. I could tell he was smiling even though I never turned around to see. But I wasn’t really being submissive. I was really pretty sure I could read between the lines and knew there was a you-know-what somewhere in the utility room and he was trying to keep me from seeing it.
Later on after my heart stopped pounding I decided to take the risk and ask him if this was a one time problem or if it had been ongoing. He laid his hand on my shoulder and in the style of a great politician he answered me squarely, “We have it completely under control.”
Um….. yeah. That doesn’t comfort me at all. You may was well tell me that the atomic bomb is not going to land DIRECTLY on top of my house. Oh well that’s just great.
I didn’t ask more questions. I really didn’t want to know, but a couple of the boys while overhearing this brief conversation blurted out some disturbing information about things that had happened while I was gone. I have never seen my husband move so fast as he leapt to put his hand over their blabby little mouths. “SHHHH!!!!” he said then turned a guilty grin in my direction, “Really honey, we are handling it.”
So of course, last night I didn’t sleep a wink. I just knew there must be dozens (or more) of those nasty creatures scurrying around in the dark doing who knows what in my house and what if one was in my bedroom?!?!? I decided that the next day I would have to go to a hotel. Obviously.
And of course, I won’t be able to cook or do laundry since the kitchen and utility room seem to be their favorite hangouts. We will be eating out from now until either an exterminator ends this invasion or the house burns down. I am hoping for #1.
I informed James this morning of all of these plans and he laughed like I was being ridiculous. Um, dude, if you thought I was hard to live with BEFORE this infestation, you ain’t seen nothing’. In the nearly 30 years that we have been married I have held back the kind of crazy that is about to come loose if we don’t get rid of these things immediately.
I may need to send him a Hallmark card to apologize in advance.
Do you think Hallmark makes those? I mean, I have seen crazier cards. Once I saw a card that said, “I am sorry you lost your job, but let’s be honest, you weren’t very good at it.”.
Now, I know that some of you are reading this and thinking that I am having an overreaction to a normal life happening and that I live on a farm and should not be bothered by this. Well just because I have horses and chickens and way too many cats does not mean I am comfortable with rodents inside my house! In fact, what is the problem with my cats anyway?! Shouldn’t they be helping here?!?!
I know that my fear is doesn’t make sense, but I think we are each allowed to have one irrational fear in our lives. I am not afraid of flying or heights or germs….OK I am a little afraid of germs. But this M-word thing is literally an I-think-I-am-gonna-throw-up kind of problem. My instant reaction is complete hysteria followed by crying in the corner. I can’t help it. It goes all the way back to my childhood and watching my mother and grandmother standing on the kitchen table while my 5 year old brother chased a mouse through the kitchen with a broom.
Not that I blame them one bit. I completely understand their fear and have no doubt that I have passed it on to my children. There are worse things to be afraid of I guess. I mean, this doesn’t come up very often in life. Unless they become missionaries in a place where this is a regular issue, in which case I guess they will have the blessing of learning to overcome a fear.
But I plan to just avoid it at all costs, literally.
And now, to prepare my weekly menu, avoiding any actual time in the kitchen and not doing laundry. It’ll be a challenge friends, but believe me, I am motivated! And if you pass my house and see me in my front porch rockers, it isn’t because I have gone all Mayberry. It’s because I am scared to go into my house.