Embarrassingly enough, the image for the BFF blog challenge this week is a very accurate rendition of my childhood. The only main difference is the size of the monster under the bed.
No, I had itty bitty boogeymen interrupting my sleep and running through my dreams as a child – and beyond…
All the scary creatures I imagined in the dark, (and man, I could/can imagine-) were smallish and decidedly mouse-like.
Yes, mouse-like…or maybe rat-like, it sounds more omnimous…
Mice were not just animals in my mind, they had a plan…like little mobsters, with Tommy Guns, or like evil scientists planning the end of my household, secretly poisoning the water or mixing dangerous concoctions while we slept.
I did grow up in an old farmhouse, and sure, there was an occasional mouse or mole…possibly even a rat, but I do hope to never know the truth about that… I’ve seen the rat traps and rat poison in my mom’s basement….but refuse to connect the dots…
anyways, it was not as if we were infested. (again, I do not want to know the truth)
My dad didn’t help the situation, he stomped a nest of baby mice with his work boots
(I am going to go with one time here…
if it was more, I don’t care,
it would only take one time to ignite the rage of the underworld.)
Killing innocent future evil warlords…the horror. They had to be plotting revenge. I was afraid for my dad’s life. . .
…and then, somewhere along the line, dad decided it would be funny to use my irrational fear. He stuck a piece of fuzzy gray electrical something or other in his mouth, you know so it dangled out and looked like a tail. Then he puffed out one cheek and ran his tongue around…so it looked like the “mouse” was still alive.
I freaked. Literally, lost it. Ran and locked myself in my dark closet and screamed until…well a long time.
“dad is eating a mouse, dad is eating a mouse, dad is eating a mouse.”
has the world gone mad, this is bad, bad, bad, what next- he eats the mouse, all the evil mouse blood starts circulating in his body- goes to his brain and – oh. my. god. – the family is next.
is it clear why I do not watch scary movies?
TV completely agreed with my theory too….Tom and Jerry anyone? Really, you were rooting for Jerry? the MOUSE. He did not belong there. Again and again Tom was beaten up … IN HIS OWN HOME. ugh.
did no one SEE behind that happy little mouse facade???
well….I would like to say I outgrew this fear…but um, not quite. I did get protection though.
My cat’s name is Little Liza Jane, the merciless. I did not want a cat. I told my daughter who was begging for a kitten. I told my friend with the new litter of kittens. I made it clear that I was content being pet-less….then I walked in my friend’s garage and the little calico took one look at me, and I said “Wait. I want THAT cat.” her name is Liza Jane.
I lived in an old house at the time and there was the occassional mouse, but traps were clearly just as bad – (see above, the whole ritual killing thing) Why not bring this beautiful calico home? This cat will cure everything…and she did, hence her ephithet.
She is a killing machine.
I love her.
She cleared the neighbors garden of moles, and took care of any rodent that even thought about crossing the street. She still, ten years later, brings home large birds and is determined to someday catch a squirell. She is a girl on a mission. (she also walks around the neighborhood with me…knocks on the window blinds when she needs to go out- no litter box mess…she is the perfect cat)
All this after a slightly rough start. I did not realize kittens liked to play with their prey. She found a mouse within the first week and I was thrilled. She was going to eat him whole, or take him out back and dispose of him properly….yeah right.
Turns out, Little Liza Jane could juggle.
The mouse, slightly dazed, but not at all dead, was being tossed up in the air repeatedly….STUCK in the house, since they were closer to the exit than I was…I did like the cartoons and climbed on a chair…..but….what was that going to do. Liza had an arm, baby. She could toss that mouse definitely higher than the chair…so I went to the center of the table…then the kitchen counter…eventually I made a break for it. She outgrew that habit.. and chased all the mice away, thankfully.
……to jump back on topic, I am just as surprised as anyone that my boogeyman has a basis in reality…albeit a very small basis. ~