So...anyone that knows me or follows me on social media will not be surprised by this revelation...at all.
I hate mice.
No...correction...I LOATHE mice.
They are the bain of my existence and a direct result of The Fall. Seriously. Yuck.
I grew up in the suburbs and had a home where there were minimal rodent invasions- if any at all really. After my hubs and I got married, we lived in an old home (again in the suburbs) where we had no issues either.
Then we moved to Nashville, TN.
This is where things took an ugly turn.
We lived in a cute starter home on a corner lot (again in the suburbs). It didn't take long for the mice to infiltrate though. You see, there are very few basements down there, as the ground has a lot of rock/stone underneath of it. So everything has a crawlspace. And our lovely cable installation man had no issues drilling holes that were too big for the cables, but just the right size for mischievous mice to move in. (That's a whole other story for another time.)
But then we moved. Praise God. Relief. Back to the land of no mice. I enjoyed several blissful years where I never saw evidence of any. To me...that is a little slice of heaven.
Do you want to know how I know that God has a sense of humor though???
Yep. We moved again. And this time to the family farm. Farm means country living. Country living means mice. Ugh.
So this has been my life for the last 4 years. Now, don't get me wrong, I LOVE the country. Seriously...you would have a very hard time convincing me to go back to the burbs. The stillness, beauty, and peacefulness that comes with country living is unmatched elsewhere.
BUT....I could do without the rodents- especially this time of year.
I have a problem.
This:
is how I live every. single. day.
This moment was captured because even though I recognize the sheer ridiculousness of my phobia, I just can't seem to move past it.
I was home alone, on the phone with my aunt, when I heard it.
Something fell in the pantry.
Now, just a few days prior, a radical rodent thought he could help himself into our food supply but ultimately met his maker because of it. So my first thought was...."He has a friend."
Because we all know...where there is one...there are more.
So that led to me cautiously pulling over a chair- as close to the pantry as I dared- and grabbing the tongs so I could slide open my pantry barn door.
I was absolutely positive something was going to jump out and eat me....well....maybe that's a slight exaggeration. But that's how it felt, and I knew I couldn't wait until my hubs got home to find out.
I gently pushed the door open- ever so slowly- with my heart pounding in my chest....and....
I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was just a chip bag that had been teetering haphazardly on the top shelf and had given way to gravity.
Yeah....I know....(insert eye roll)....I'm ridiculous. But it's who I am and I am not ashamed. So, if you made it to the end of this story, thank you. And I hope it gave you a good chuckle. But know that I live in a constant state of fear/dread to some degree here. (Go ahead...quote all the Scripture you want about living in fear...it doesn't help lol.) But I do hope that my rants and ramblings bring some humor into your day. That's worth it to me....well....maybe....
