One-sided conversation in my kitchen this morning.
Last night I had seen something move across the living room floor out of the corner of my eye. I figured it was a spider trying to get to cover before a cat saw it. But this morning in the kitchen, I saw it again. It is not a large spider. It is a tiny little mouse. These are the words I heard myself saying as we stared at each other:
Me: "Oh no. Oh nonono. You can't be here. You can't! You don't know what will happen! You don't know what they'll DO!"
I looked around to make sure the cats hadn't heard me and continued.
Also me: "The black and white one looks like an elderly duchess with one too many valium, but she will eat your head! EAT. Your HEAD. And leave the body for me to clean up and/or step on with my bare feet in the dark! Sob! It's happened before! And, and the stripy one? Oh man! He's like Jack Torrance and Norman Bates and Sweeney Todd all in one! It won't be quick. It will last the rest of your life. You have to go. Get out of here. Save yourself, mousie. You have to run! Run for your life!"
And then the mouse ran under the dishwasher and I went to work with the knowledge that I had done all I could. I haven't seen any little battered or headless bodies since I got home, so maybe he took my advice.
Me: "Oh no. Oh nonono. You can't be here. You can't! You don't know what will happen! You don't know what they'll DO!"
I looked around to make sure the cats hadn't heard me and continued.
Also me: "The black and white one looks like an elderly duchess with one too many valium, but she will eat your head! EAT. Your HEAD. And leave the body for me to clean up and/or step on with my bare feet in the dark! Sob! It's happened before! And, and the stripy one? Oh man! He's like Jack Torrance and Norman Bates and Sweeney Todd all in one! It won't be quick. It will last the rest of your life. You have to go. Get out of here. Save yourself, mousie. You have to run! Run for your life!"
And then the mouse ran under the dishwasher and I went to work with the knowledge that I had done all I could. I haven't seen any little battered or headless bodies since I got home, so maybe he took my advice.