Plagued

Because of my wickedness (I am only guessing) we have been sent plagues. We have had three sent to us so far.

We endured the stink plague. A horrible odor in our bedroom which gave me nightmares for weeks. I literally spent many a night on the couch....wearing a surgical mask. (It turns out Greg spilled milk on the carpet and then anticipating my anger, kept it a secret. ) Another time, there was a horrible smell in my bedroom. It smelled like a dead animal. I literally spent many a night on the couch....wearing a surgical mask. (It turns out Greg's foot was rotting.)

Another time, there was a horrible smell in my bedroom....(just kidding.)
There was last fall when the fruit flies nearly drove me to an early death. I made peach jam and introduced them to my home. They overstayed their welcome. I battled those dang flies for WEEKS. One day, as I was standing in the bathroom getting ready to enjoy a hot shower I saw some fruit flies through the blinds on the window inside the shower. I grabbed a bottle of Clorox clean up, and yelled for Greg to be back-up. The plan was to quickly raise the blinds, and inflict a bleachy death upon said flies. When Greg was in position, I jerked on the cord. The entire blind fell into the shower and onto my toe. I gazed at the window and to my horror there were THOUSANDS of fruit flies. I panicked. I screamed, I ran in place flapping my hands, I nearly peed my pants (if I were wearing pants.) Greg sprayed like crazy and it was at least 10 minutes later before I realized that I had been doing a scared-to-death jiggly naked dance for all our neighbors to see. It was a horrible thing. We have not had fresh fruit in the house since. If you want to eat a banana, you need to stand on the back porch.

Our most recent plague has been mice. Oh heavens, I hate mice. My cat Piper has been my back up on this one. (and she is much better back-up than Greg.) The mice who want to share my abode are small grey field mice. I believe they walk right in the back door. (My children were apparently born in a barn. And all this time I thought it was American Fork Hospital.) I honestly didn't even know I HAD a mouse problem until I began finding parts. Small, furry, grey parts. Halle was astonished. Jack was intrigued. I was nauseated. My pet Piper is not a sweet, let me sit on your lap and purrr, kind of kitty. She is a b....brat. She spends her evenings stalking and eating baby mice. I think there was a nest of babies and she picked them off one at a time. I found heads for a few weeks. I believed she was eating the bodies and leaving us the heads. (I still don't walk around in the dark barefoot.) It was only later that I found many a mouse body laid out in a row in the furnace room. It looked ritualistic. I screamed and ran for Greg. Jack stood over the bodies in wonder. I believed the nest was empty when I did not find a mouse for a while.

One night a few weeks ago, Greg and I were laying in bed watching TV. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. I looked over and there was a HUGE mouse. Big and grey and staring at me. I freaked out. I screamed bloody murder (Greg says he hadn't heard me scream like that since the grasshopper incident. That's another story for another day) I climbed on Greg's back with my legs wrapped around his neck. I flapped my hands as tears rolled down my cheeks. I screamed the entire time. Greg, was yelling something back, but as I had his head pinned in the pillow I am not sure what he was saying. The mouse, no surprise, ran behind my dresser. This was a BIG mouse. I couldn't sleep that night. I slept plastered against my husband, my head smashed against his neck, completely under the covers, with his arms wrapped around me all night. Did I mention that it was a big mouse?? We set traps, we set bait, I bribed Piper with seafood flavored food if she would catch it. Days went by and there was no mouse. I assumed he had died from the poison and was decomposing. (Probably in my bedroom.) Then, one Saturday afternoon when I was sleeping off a grave, I heard Halle screaming. The big mouse was in the hallway. Dead. I yelled for my one legged husband to take care of it. He hobbled out and said "Wow, it is a big one." I screamed and ran in place. Halle was under the covers on the top bunk bed. Jack was standing over the nasty thing and said "It's eyes are open!" Piper was nowhere to be seen. I screamed again. After much grunting and groaning, my one legged husband made it to a squatting position within reach of the thing. As I watched through the crack in the bedroom door, he slowly reached out for it with a paper towel, balancing painfully. Jack stood ready holding the bag open. He got within an inch of it, and to my absolute HORROR it ran. An awkward kind of run. (It had eaten poison but had not yet passed into the land of cheese.) I ended up in bed with Halle. We screamed a lovely mother-daughter duet. Flapping of hands could be seen under the covers. My feet stuck out the bottom of the blanket and silently ran in place. Greg was shocked, squawked, and lost balance. The crutches shot out from beneath him across the hallway and with a large thud, he fell. Nearly on the mouse. Jack calmly said "Daddy, his eyes were open." Greg ended up picking him up (wiggling) by his tail. I made him crutch out to the dumpster to get rid of it. Ugh, it was awful. I still haven't recovered. Just telling the story makes my pouch gurgle.

Yes, I live in the house of plagues. Who wants to come over for dinner??? The first course will be served on the back porch.