Killing the Mouse

If you remember, I mentioned in one of my earlier posts that when we lived in the little cinder block house on the Bottom Road, we would lie in our beds and listen to the mice gnawing on the walls. You could actually see where they gnawed through the wallpaper in our bedroom.  I never noticed if there were holes in the rest of the rooms, although I’m sure there were. And, my little sister and I were never afraid of the mice; we just snuggled down in our beds at night and went to sleep.

There were also nights when we would be sitting in the living room watching some program on the television and we would see little mice run from my parents’ bedroom to our bedroom.  I mean, these little guys would almost stop and wave at us as they ran from room to room.  And, Dad would grumble and say he was gonna get those little boogers.

So, one night, when I was about 6 years old, he decided he was going to kill this one mouse and said he wanted me to help him. Oh geez, why me? Now, in the corner between the rooms stood the kerosene stove that we used to heat the house in the winter. So Dad got one of his work boots, handed it to me and said, “You stand in front of your bedroom door and when he comes your way, you whack him with my boot.”

Sure, okay, that sounded easy enough.  So, we took our places on either side of that stove with boots in our hands ready to rid ourselves of this pesky mouse.  The mouse came running out of their bedroom and straight toward me.  But, when the time came to whack him, I screamed and dropped the boot. The mouse ran right between my legs straight into our bedroom. No, of course I didn’t kill the mouse. And, my dad who was not the most patient person in the world, was not very happy with me.  He couldn’t understand why I didn’t just do the deed without screaming like a baby.  But, I betcha he secretly laughed at me and I sometimes wonder if he didn’t set me up just to see what I would do.

Well, I don’t think we ever got that mouse.  We just all went on living together in harmony in that little cinder block house.

See ya next Wednesday.