RIP Ratatouille

Last night, so tired … I had just finished up SYTYCD … quickly checked up on my favorite blogs …. what’s that sound? must be the rain … and feeling guilty about how far behind I am on blogging … what is that sound? stand up to walk closer to it and it quits. hmmmm…strange … quickly decide to at least add this little capture which to me demanded a fitting quote … what is that sound? again, I stand up to walk closer and again it quits. This time I at least look around, turn the kitchen light on and leave it … find a quote, post the blog, turn off my computer and there it is. The sound. Louder than ever. I start to think about it. If it stops every time I walk toward it then it. must. be. a. critter.

So, I spend a solid three minutes taking steps - quiet as a mouse, light as a feather - toward it. And, the sound. It grows closer and louder. And, it’s most definitely coming from our kitchen. Our refrigerator. I lay on the ground to see if I can see it and it stops. Yes. Definitely a critter.

Here are my options:

1. Go to bed knowing there’s a *giant* critter in my kitchen.

2. Wake up Corey to help me capture it even though I know he will be quite frustrated with me and will let me know it with every breath he takes while awake.

Option 2 it is!

Babe! Babe! Baaaabe!!!!

Uh? What?

There’s an animal in our kitchen.

What?

An animal! Large critter! Kitchen. Refrigerator. Please help!!!

Okay (as he fades back to sleep)

BAAABE!

And, there we were. Him in his hunter green boxers spotted with reindeers (J. Crew holiday shorts ; ), Wallabes with no socks and hair stuck up on the right side. Me, feeling brave and wondering if maybe .. just maybe I was hearing things??

Then, with just one little pull of the fridge from the wall. There it was. A giant, humongous, size of my big toe mouse.

I screamed like a girl, threw down the trashcan, ran out of the room and did a split mid-air to find myself barely landing on the couch.

Once I regained my composure and Corey gave me the “if you don’t get over here and help me I’m going to murder you” look long enough I was back in the kitchen helping.

We decided we’d suck him up with our Shop Vac and let him go in the backyard. We (we being Corey) just threw the hose behind the fridge and hoped for the best. Then we carried it to the backyard, me with the flash light. Corey opened it up so very slowly (we just knew it’d jump out and latch onto one of our faces!) and there he was. In the midst of the dust. Dead.

Dang. That was not my goal. I just wanted to go to bed. Not murder an innocent little field mouse. I went to bed feeling sad thinking about how heartbroken Ratatouille’s friends must be …