Yes, that was me. And yes…I was screaming like a little girl…
Why, do you ask?
Not just any mouse, but a mouse IN MY BOOT…
Not so bad, you say…
MY FOOT WAS IN IT!
I was getting ready for work, the Sunday Night before Christmas Eve. I was getting my boots on and stuffed my right foot into my boot.
There was something hard in, what I can only describe as, the ‘corner’ of my boot, by my little toesies. It didn’t seem big.
I thought my sock had balled up, when putting my foot in. It was a tight fit.
So, I took part of my foot our and sort of ‘slammed’ it back in…twice..still there. K, maybe it is a lego or toy Riley dropped in there (this has happened before).
I was going to just leave it and deal with it at work. I was running late.
But then I thought, no, this is my driving foot, this is gonna bug me.
So I took my foot out of my boot, raised it up about eye level (to see in) and shook it.
Well, if I had been paying attention, that little stone I saw fall out would have tipped me off…as I later realized…it was a mouse nugget.
So I then reached up into my boot and felt something furry and somewhat hard.
Let me back track. The day before my wife had spotted the mouse when we had company over.
So I immediately though, “OH CRAP. Megabyte caught the mouse and put the dead thing into my boot.”
EEEEEEKKKK! I touched a dead mouse….I dropped the boot and ran to my mother’s room right behind me. (As most of you know. She is the terminator of icky things in our house).
“MOM! I just touched a dead mouse in my boot!”
“Oh Lord…” was all she said. As we turned from her room and toward where my boots lay, I saw a mouse jump out and run towards the couch.
“EEEEKKKK! I touched a LIVE MOUSE!”
Suffice it to say, we didn’t find it (until the next day, when Amy accidentally killed it—another long and entertaining story). But I still haven’t and refuse to wear those boots.
Eeeek. Yes. Eeek. I think that about sums it up.