Roaches, Mice, and Owies . . . Oh my!

ROACHES: I wrote a poem about roaches that I might post at a later date. Oh, how I detest them. We see them frequently around here . . . far far too frequently. (UPDATE SINCE I POSTED: Let me clarify on the roach thing. We had Terminix come out because although I clean constantly, I felt like I must be very unsanitary! However, the guy informed us that the big ones that we had, the "palmetto bugs" that live in the trees, just come in of their own accord and, while annoying, don't necessarily indicate that you have food out all the time and are unclean or whatever. It's the little ones to be worried about. (Is that right, Sheree?!))

MICE: Two days ago I was at the computer and saw movement out of the corner of my eye. "That's a huge roach!" I thought at first, but then I discovered it to be a small mouse. I was on the phone with my mother at the time, who may have suffered partial hearing loss due to my girlish scream on the phone. Upon finding Michael's cell phone at our house instead of with him, I called one of his fellow residents (who I later found out drove down to campus to try to find Michael for me and even called around for mouse traps!) to get the orthodontic clinic number.

Michael felt impressed to call me upon hearing the phone ring there several times, and then I made poor Michael run (literally) back to find me having shut myself into the office with my feet tucked under me, refusing to exit the room. However, after doing some research on the best types of mouse traps--amazing what you can find on Amazon--I went off to Target and got a couple of different kinds. Michael set them up with the obligatory peanut butter around the house, and I went to sleep and dreamed of catching the mouse. Seriously.

My dream came true yesterday evening when I discovered that a trap had been triggered . . . fortunately, this particular trap was one of the "hide the disgusting dead rodent inside here" ones, so I didn't have to see the mouse. Michael, once again my knight in shining armor, disposed of it, but not after informing me that the mouse had peed inside and asking if I wanted to look at it. "No!" I practically yelled from my secure retreat under the bedcovers. No new mice have appeared, but I'm not taking any chances and might sleep tonight with a peanut butter-laden trap upon my pillow.

OWIES: Last night, Clara and Michael were playing their daily "You can't catch me!" game, during which Clara tells Michael and then runs away, laughing hysterically as Michael runs to catch her. But, as they say, "It's all fun and games 'til somebody gets hurt." I had to spank Clara for tackling Michael so hard! Just kidding. No, Michael feels absolutely mortified, but as he tackled her, he fell partially on Clara's foot. (I had to remind him that I fell with her down the stairs when she was 10 months old and actually broke her leg.) She was in considerable pain and woke up several times in the night, but after taking her to the pediatrician's today, we think it's just a "contusion" (a fancy name for a bruise). Still, it is so sad to see her limping, and of course she had to miss school and is milking it all for all its worth. Poor kid!

Recuperating in her "nest."

Heal quickly, contusion. Heal quickly.