In years past I have had the unfortunate luck of a Winter Mouse. It's like the coming of Santa Claus, only smaller and more hideous (And I don't think children run screaming in the opposite direction from Santa).
Well, okay maybe a few of them do. Maybe I did.....but never you mind my old fat men in red velvet suits paranoia. We are talking about the nasty mice, people.
I should mention that I share a family phobia of mice. I know that there are very few people that actually enjoy finding a mouse in their house, but when I say my Dad and I have a phobia, I mean the break-out-in-hives-sweat-dripping-from-head-to-toe-pale-I-can't-breathe sort of F-O-B-I-A. You don’t believe it’s true? Ask Corri. She’s seen it happen, twice.
Last year I had a mou-----wait, did I mention there's a warrior cat? How fucking stupid of a mouse are you to hideout in a house with a feline warrior? I should really give him a little tuna cake for earning his Boy Scout Hunting badge two times over. It is true that for all the shit I give Owen, he deserves my love and admiration today.
So, last night I was making some dinner while my roommate was getting ready for her class. Quietly focused on reading the directions from the back of the box of noodles, I was totally caught off guard when the fucking mouse leapt from somewhere off to my left across the counter in front of me and scurried off in the direction of the coffee pot. I can only assume to hide behind the coffee pot at the other end of the counter. I’m assuming this last part because the second it jumped I started screaming and running.
Screaming. And running. In blind PANIC.
When Corri’s heart started beating again she lovingly tended to her whacked out roomie (THANK YOU AGAIN) and asked what happened. I tried to explain that the monster had shown itself and it looked like this: 
When we braved the kitchen we couldn’t find it and Corri was late for class. Bidding her a terrified and frightened "Goodbye, please come home soon" she was off. Not five minutes later I was looking for Owen "the Hunter" and couldn’t find him. As if he heard me mentally calling him he trotted out of Corri’s room with Winter Mouse dangling from his mouth. And even though it makes NO DIFFERENCE WHATSOEVER in my panic covered head, Winter Mouse looked like this: 
When we braved the kitchen we couldn’t find it and Corri was late for class. Bidding her a terrified and frightened "Goodbye, please come home soon" she was off. Not five minutes later I was looking for Owen "the Hunter" and couldn’t find him. As if he heard me mentally calling him he trotted out of Corri’s room with Winter Mouse dangling from his mouth. And even though it makes NO DIFFERENCE WHATSOEVER in my panic covered head, Winter Mouse looked like this: Being the phob-a-riffic chicken I am, I made a B-line directly into the bathroom (aka the Panic Room) and into the tub. I called Corri-- because she’s step two of my emergency plan after first securing myself in the tub – and she made a quick call to Scott -- her step two in an emergency plan -- and she assured me he was on his way. I kid you not Scott rectified the emergency Winter Mouse 09 crisis in a matter of minutes armed with only a pair of rubber gloves, a soothing voice and a blue plastic shopping bag. Scott deserves my love and admiration today as well.
While I rationally know that this crisis has been taken care of, a large part of me still has the heebie-jeebies and I can’t bring myself to go into the kitchen for any long period of time unaccompanied. Tonight’s dinner was peanut butter and a spoon because it was the first thing I could grab. I just keep seeing this:
That’s why when Scott and Corri walked in the door tonight my hearbeat calmed and I knew I would have sleep. No panic tub for me tonight. 
