Yesterday, I came home from work VERY happy and content. As I pulled in the driveway, Jack came bursting out of the house saying, "Mommy! There's a monster in your hamper!!" To Jack, a monster could be a cockroach (which by the way, he likes to call by their proper spanish name "cucaracha"--on a side note, is that what that song is about??? But I digress...).
I put down my stuff and say to Jack, ok, I'll take care of the "monster." I look in my three-foot tall hamper only to have a pair of beady eyes looking back. A possum had invaded my laundry hamper.
I immediately grab Jack out of the laundry room and shaking, call our handy man, Dub. Dub says, he can come get him tomorrow, if I would like, and get rid of him. If he's escaped, he'll set a trap for him.
Escaped??!!! Into my laundry room??!!! I must get the hamper out of my laundry room.
In the middle of the night outside of my window I hear, tink--tink--tink--crash. My beady-eyed friend escaped.
Dub came this morning to set a trap. He then tells me that once we have him again, all Jon has to do is put the trap in the car, drive it to the lake and let him go.
Sure, I said, but Jon is in London.
Wait. You can't mean that I HAVE TO PUT IT IN MY CAR AND TAKE IT TO THE LAKE???!!!
You know, this is why we live in town so that we don't have critters coming into our homes. Guess living this close to the park has its drawbacks.
Dub assures me that once I open the trap, the animal (whatever kind I have caught) will then run the other way. Yeah right. That's REALLY comforting.
Time to get my big-girl panties on.... (to be continued)