Earlier in the week, Salvatore and I were playing with his Mickey Mouse coloring book and
he kept saying, "mouse" for each picture. When we were finished, he said, "mouse" again
and I said, "yes, mouse" and he said, "No, mama, MOUSE" and pointed underneath the
in our dining room. Sure enough, there was a dead mouse! Probably a victim of Benedict,
so I scooped it up and threw it away and sanitized the floors.
With that incident still stuck in my head, I froze when I saw this little black creature not moving in the middle of the floor. Panicking, I grabbed a large plastic container and placed it over the mouse so I could use the bathroom with some piece of mind. I did not want to have to kill it or watch it escape, so I put another bowl on top of the container and returned to bed. In the morning, I crept back into the kitchen and saw the bowl on top of the plastic container and knew that I must deal with the fate of the situation now. I pulled off the bowl, and raised the container. Guess what was underneath.....a black, toy plastic car of Salvatore's. No mouse. Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.