Gather around children, I have a story to tell you.
My Man is out of town this week, so it was just the kids and I at dinner. As we ate our grilled cheese and tomato soup, we all made a plan for the rest of the night. I love a good plan. The plan included ice cream and extra play time if they could get their chores done quickly and without whining.
Now, before I get to my story, there is some background information that will be helpful to you. It is Fall here, the weather is starting to turn cool, the leaves are starting to change, and people are putting pumpkin in their coffee (I really don’t understand why, but it seems to make them happy). We live out of town a ways, in the woods, so one other sign that season change is upon us is when the mice try to move into the house. This is normal, but still annoying. The other bit of crucial information about this story is that in the last month we have become a pet free household. Not by our own choosing, but sometimes cats get old and sick, and sometimes dogs zig when they should zag while chasing cars. I’ve mentioned before that our home has been filled with different kinds of grief and loss over the last year. I have seen the death of our furry friends truly highlight the different ways my kids are dealing with their grief. It hurts my heart to watch my children miss yet another thing gone from their lives. On a very practical note, apparently my fat little dog and fluffy cat were also keeping a large amount of the mice problem in my home at bay.
Alright, now that you are up to date, let’s continue with my story. We were all getting started on our designated jobs when all the fun started. I use the word “fun” loosely. Edison and I were cleaning the kitchen together when I opened one of my lower cabinets and a live mouse fell out on the floor.
Not cool.
I yelled and jumped, Edison also jumped and the chaos only grew from there. I think the little thing was stunned from hitting the floor, so I had time to reach up and grab an empty tin can from the dinner prep and slam it over our intruder. Within the next minute, The General was standing at the ready with his pellet rifle, begging me to let it go outside so he could shoot it. Beside him was Edison, who, with tears welling in his eyes, was pleading for the life of the creature saying the little thing was just hungry, and we have lots of food and, we should share. To his right was Batman, jumping up and down with unbridled excitement, wanting to see the mouse; all the while dripping water from his completely naked body all over my floor (his chore had been to take a bath).
Meanwhile, Duchess was running around, yelling that there is a mouse in the house. Everyone already knew…but she kept running and yelling anyway. Thor had taken this opportunity to practice his new skill of climbing onto the dining room table, and had started checking the bottom of everyone’s milk glasses. As he tipped them over, he giggled at the sight of the white liquid running all over him, the table, the chairs, and the floor.
Okay, now that you have a good mental image of the epic chaos that is going on in my home. Let me tell you about how my two oldest children’s grief has been manifesting itself. The General has quietly taken up a protective role of those he loves, and Eidson has grown in his sensitivity to all things of the heart. So, when The General is calling for the death of the little creature, it is not to placate some boyhood need to fire his air rifle. It is because he knows that if you just let the mouse go outside within a day it will be back inside. He also knows how much his mother does not like mice, and in his fragile little heart, he was just trying to protect me. Edison can only see that this mouse may be a mother just trying to provide a warm home and a good meal for her family. If the little mouse’s life is taken from her, who will feed her babies, who will tuck them in at night, and read them stories?
I had five children who all needed, and were calling for, my attention at the same time. This is the part of parenting that no one talks about. In the span of two seconds, I must evaluate and prioritize my children’s needs. Oh, and let’s not forget I still have a rodent trapped under a tin can of tomato sauce in my hand. As parents, we want guidance, rules, and anything to help us navigate how to prioritize the needs of those we care for.
But there isn’t. You just have to do the best you can with the information you have.
Right or wrong, this is what I did. I told the two older kids to calm down and stop yelling, and that I would talk to them in a minute. I explained to a now shivering Batman that I could not show him the mouse without it escaping, so he should go get back into the tub. About that time, Duchess came around the corner, still yelling at the top of her lungs, that there was a mouse in the kitchen. I asked her if she would please stop yelling, and try to get her little brother off the dinner table.
Okay, now back to the older two. We talked about what they both wanted for the future of the mouse and why. Neither was deterred from his convictions. Finally, I slid a piece of cardboard under the rim of the can, making the tin prison portable, and I headed outside. Edison was content thinking he had won the life of the rodent, so he went back to unloading the dishwasher. Before The General could react, I silently signaled him to go out the back door as I went out the front. I justified my deceit by remembering The General’s marksman skills, the mouse was in no real danger of being killed with a pellet.
As I lifted the can to let the mouse escape, I discovered there had been just a bit of sauce left in the can. Not a lot, but enough for it to drown in.
Death by pasta sauce.
Awesome.
I think I’m going to get a kitten.
Love it baby!