I can't even express the panic that set it. Luckily it was a Saturday so G could help me. But unfortunately, it was a Saturday so we couldn't call an exterminator that minute. I immediately began washing and sanitizing. Over the next few days I scrubbed every square inch of my kitchen and washed every single dish. We only found a small number of droppings in two drawers, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. I couldn't think about anything else until I was sure there were no more.
That Tuesday we paid a guy an obscene dollar amount to come set traps and bait stations. (My peace of mind is worth a lot.) After he left, I had Sambo in the garage using the shop vac to clean up debris and leaves that had blown in. All of a sudden, Sambo came running in the house telling me there was a dead mouse on the shop vac. So it was confirmed -- we have mice! I was both disturbed and relieved that maybe our rogue mouse was dead. Apparently he died on his own and not because of the exterminator, which just figures. Since then we haven't seen anything. But the exterminator will be back to check things out in a few weeks to be sure.
It's a little surprising we haven't ever had mice in the house before, considering our two houses have both backed to a field. I'm hoping it never happens again.
* * *
Here are a few recent conversations with the kids.
Buddy suggested a "section for fat people" in the Costco food court. He doesn't like that the benches are so deep from the tables there at the food court. After looking around and noticing most everybody was obese, he made this suggestion. (I know this is rude -- and we told him so -- but is he not right????!)
Sambo calls homeless people "cavemen." He has made the mistake now three times. Last winter we did a service project with several friends making kits to hand out to the homeless. Now that the weather has turned rainy, he keeps asking me when we're going to pass out bags to the cavemen again. When I told him we'll be doing it soon, he suggested we give them a house "because that's what they really need."
Buddy spent a few years talking about "juvi" all the time. "I have to sit in my carseat otherwise I'm going to juvi." Now that he's grown out of that phase, Sambo is saying stuff like that. Is it just my kids? Or are all 5-year olds talking about juvenile detention?
Sambo is now insisting we call him by different names. It was "Cracker" last week. But if you called him "Cracker Jack" he got mad. Just Cracker. This week it's "Bob the Builder." He doesn't even watch or like Bob the Builder. ???? This child insists on controlling the family and will do anything to accomplish that goal. At least this one isn't too disruptive.
We are still hoping to adopt and have had some serious ups and downs related to adoption lately. The kids have been praying constantly for a baby. Sambo's prayer at dinner the other night was especially cute. "Please bless that your daughter makes a baby to give to us."
I love Presidential Election time. I love the debates, the drama of people sharing their political beliefs on facebook, watching the coverage on CNN while at the gym. I just love it all. I might feel differently if we lived in a state that was undecided, but Oregon decided their president 4 years ago. But I still enjoy all the drama. It's like a current events soap opera -- which combine all my favorite things. In fact, Buddy came home from school with Time for Kids lately. I guess his class reads it and he enjoys it so much he actually reads them and saves them. His teacher knows he likes them, so she gave him a couple random magazines she had leftover from this summer. I couldn't be more thrilled.
Sambo enjoys looking at "Where's Waldo" books but he calls it "Where's Weirdo." And he's not saying that to be funny.
Buddy's school has called three times in less than two weeks because he's gotten hurt at recess. I asked the lady to please tell me my child isn't the only one that gets hurt every day at recess. She nervously laughed and basically said "He is an active one, that's for sure." But she tried to smooth things over to say she just adores him because he's always so grateful for her icepacks and he always thanks her profusely for patching him up. An important note: Buddy has told me all the rules they have at recess, so the fact he STILL gets hurt baffles me.
Buddy told me I was "skinny for my age." Nicest compliment I've ever received.
On the way to school this morning Sambo was telling Buddy he likes the part of the Madagascar movie when the "chickmunk" chased the "walking shark" into the hot lava. Buddy corrected him, "It's not a chipmunk. It's an aye-aye which is similar to a marsupial, lemur, and monkey." I was extremely amused by this since I've never even heard of that animal. Note: It took me 10 minutes of googling to figure out how to spell it. And I'm really glad I don't live in Madagascar because that thing is CREEPY and having that thing come into my house would do me in.