Melted Butter, Marylou, and a Mouse

Thank You. You are the best.

Me

That's all it takes and I'm friggin melted butter.

"The guy" emailed that to me last night, in response to an email I'd sent him with a lead on a some work. I totally get that it's a completely nice and innocent response. I get that "you are the best" is something that people say 100 times a day to 100 different people and doesn't mean you actually are the best.

Still, I got little tiny butterflies when I read it.

Clearly, I am far-gone and need prayer, lol. Please keep praying that whatever this is will work itself out and I'll be ok with the outcome.

Anyway, besides my schoolgirl craziness, I had a great weekend. Saturday was work and then my newfound like of Zac Efron.

Sunday, we went to church and then Marylou came over for lunch. Marylou was my tap teacher from the time I was little and like my 2nd mom. We taught together for years, until the studio finally closed at the beginning of the year. We hadn't seen one another since before Christmas (when the studio went dark for the holidays).

It wasn't until I saw her that I realized how much I missed her. She ate with the family and then sat for hours, just chatting and catching up. Marylou has always been someone I can tell anything to. She's been one of my biggest cheerleaders and supporters. I didn't want her to leave, but when she did, I felt so great about the visit.

Later that evening, my mom, stepdad, and I were watching Desperate Housewives, when a teeny tiny mouse scurried across the floor.

That's right, a MOUSE.

Let me go on the record.... I. hate. rodents.

It was smaller than Despereaux. It was a baby that probably got lost from its mother. It literally couldn't hurt a flea.

I wanted it dead.

My mother thought that this small little thing was a salamander. I don't know how she confused a mouse with a salamander, but she thought it was one. She'd bought little glue traps to trap the little salamander and then set it free.

Well, it was a mouse that was salamander size.

She and my stepdad quickly got out the traps, put a dab of peanut butter on them, and then put them around the room. I stayed where I was, frozen and watching to make sure it didn't go anywhere.

Then, I saw it again. It went AROUND one of the traps. It was headed towards me, so I did what any self-respecting 25 year old woman would do. I jumped up on the couch and ran along the couch until I no longer had a couch to stand on. Then, I ran and jumped up on the kitchen counter. My mother did the same.

My poor step-father (who just wanted to watch Brothers and Sisters) defended our honor by carrying a flashlight and a broom. He looked all over the room. He didn't want to kill this small creature who just so happened to happen upon our living room.

Then, I saw it. It was under the media stand, stuck to a trap. My mother and I vacated the premesis, while Jeff disposed of Despereaux.

Sorry, little mouse. You came to visit the wrong house.

We then continued on with our evening.

I might have had a glass of wine after that.

Disclaimer - My house is not a disgusting pigsty. It's clean, I promise. We clean it all the time and we take out the trash. There isn't food lying around or anything.... it's clean. We just so happen to live extremely close to a big field. Also, the house next door (which has been empty for almost a full year after it was built) just got moved into last week. I'm pretty sure that might have something to do with this mouse trying to take residence in our house. I promise my house is clean. AND... we left out traps in case Despereaux brought friends. There haven't been any.