underneath an upside down bowl that has 6 hardcover books on top of it.
I got home from work tonight and opened the door to the deck, sat down at my laptop, which is presently on my kitchen table, and looked into the living room at Boo. I was surprised to see him back inside so quickly. He seemed pretty intent on playing with something I smiled because he’s the one who’s too cool to play. Then I looked at the something. It didn’t look like one of the toy mice he secretly likes. I looked at it some more and then heard myself saying “oh no, oh no, oh no”. That’s the reason there’s a dead bird on my living room floor. We’ve lived here over 7 years and Boo has never, ever been able to catch a bird. One would think that if he’d ever been able to do that, it would have been in his younger years when he was much more sleek and quick. Although I have no idea why there would be a dead bird on our deck, I am pretty sure that Boo just found it. He was outside for a matter of seconds, it would take longer than that for him to do the whole cat crouch and wiggle before the pounce thing.
Anyway, Boo brought it in, that’s why it’s there to begin with. I am a wussie, that’s why it’s still there and underneath an upside down bowl that has 6 hardcover books on top of it. It’ll have to wait to be disposed of till Rob gets home. The books are not to make sure it doesn’t get away, it’s dead. The books are to insure the cats don’t knock the bowl over. See that? I am a professional wussie.
It hasn’t always been this way. I remember playing with salamanders and frogs and , when we could catch them. The very 1st time I ever saw a garter snake was when my mom came up with the rule that we had to use the back door. I had to have been 4 or 5 at the time. I’d been outside and was running around to the back of the house when I saw a garter snake slither into our garage REALLY fast. We had to go into the garage to get to the back door. I ran back around the house and started beating on the front door. No idea why, it wasn’t locked and we had a doorbell. My mom came to the door and opened it and started to say “I thought I told you….” I cut her off with “but MOM there’s a a a a a a there’s a…it’s it’s in the garage!” Damn straight I was scared to death, I’d never seen one, had no idea one could ever exist in my neighborhood and there it was in my garage! I never did manage to get the word “snake” out but with my terror and my description (once I could kind of talk) my mom figured it out.
It was daytime during a weekday in the suburbs, in the mid 60’s. All the dads were at work, all the moms were home. My mom got on the phone and managed to round up a few neighbor ladies that weren’t afraid of snakes. My eyes had to have been as big as saucers as I watched them enter our garage. The women were armed with shovels but my young mind was thinking “but they don’t know how FAST it is” and I thought there was no hope. I have no idea if it was a little time later or a long time later but the women emerged from our garage victorious.
Skip ahead to 9th grade. Outside smoking between classes and someone has a garter snake. Time to go in and what to do with the snake? Whoever the someone was, they were about to let it go when I realized what a great excuse it would be to get out of my math class. As much as I hate snakes and as much as they terrify me, apparently I must have hated math more. Went to math, attendance was taken and then I reached into the inside pocket of my denim jacket, pulled the snake out, screamed and threw it across the room. While the guys in the class were trying to catch it and the girls in my class were screaming, I was explaining to my teacher that I had lent my jacket to someone else and had no idea the snake was in there. The snake was caught, who’s going to take it outside….that’s where I step back into the picture. It’s my fault that it’s here, the class has been disrupted enough, I should be the one to take it out as there’s been enough commotion already and, again, it’s all my fault. There ya go, I’m out of class with a pass. That’s my snake story. Also, I would never touch a salamander or a frog today.
During our 1st year of marriage, must have been the 2nd half of that 1st year,( right, I mean the 1st time we were married) because we lived in town, in Bemidji, above the Singer store. Rob was away at his once a month weekend of ROTC and I woke up that Sunday morning and went out and bought a newspaper. Throughout the summer there were giant, fat spiders living outside of the building. This was early fall and when I got back home from buying the paper there was a giant, fat spider on our counter. Apparently spiders get cold and seek shelter. Who knew? During my freaking out process I did manage to put an upside down glass over the spider to trap it and then I left the apartment until Rob got back home that night. After that, all fall long, at any given time Rob could come home to find no wife at home but a few upside down glasses with spiders inside of them. Given a choice, I will always take the wussie route. Someone else can take care of that.
As a single mom, you have no choice. A giant, fat spider is not something you can call your dad, your brother, your ex-husband or even a friend about at 1am. Unless of course you know for a fact that your friend is awake and would love nothing more than to come rescue you from an evil spider. That happens sometimes but not something you can count on. My friend, Kevin came to my rescue a few times at 1am. I also had a neighbor once who lived right across the hall that volunteered himself for anything “icky”. He was a family man with a wife and 2 small children but knowing I was a single mom, he offered to be protector of my family. I never did have to go across the hall and knock on the door and say “can you come over and kill this nasty bug” while they lived there but good to know you have back up. This story, however, should have been included in my “Things that still make me laugh”. I was always a night owl and so was my friend, Kevin, which is what made him available at 1am. Kevin would get off work from his 2nd job at 1am and occasionally call to see if I was still up and he’d come over and we’d have a few beers and catch up and then he’d go home. One night Kevin came over, he had to buzz to get in the building of course and I left the apartment door unlocked so once he climbed the 32 steps up to my apartment, he walked right in. Two seconds later someone was knocking frantically at my door. I looked out the spy hole, or whatever you want to call it and there was Andre (my self-proclaimed protector). Let me back up here a minute to let you know that Andre was very large black man. I opened the door immediately thinking he needed help. Okay, I’m laughing over this memory now because Andre didn’t need help, he thought I did. He didn’t know Kevin and saw Kevin enter my apartment and was worried that I was in danger and he flew over to rescue me..without stopping to put his pants on. He was standing outside my door, with his fists drawn up, in his tighty-whities. To my credit I did not burst out laughing. I calmly explained to Andre that Kevin and I were friends, that we went way back and no worries and I introduced the two men and Andre asked me again if I was okay and went back to his apartment and I shut the door and leaned against it and looked at Kevin with my “omg, can’t believe that just happened” look. Kevin looked at me, shrugged his shoulders, walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer for each of us and when I got into the living room I burst out laughing. It’s a total visual thing. One of those ya-had-to-be-there things.
I am completely off subject now. There is a dead bird in my living room underneath an upside bowl that has 6 hardcover books on top of it. If we took this back 20 years and I was the single mom with 3 young children and no other options, the bird would be gone. Being a mom makes one brave beyond belief. However, this is today and I have a choice. Rob will be home soon and I choose to be the wussie and let him deal with it. I know, but goddesses have the right to do that if they please.