I can handle a spider. I wouldn't buy one for a pet or anything but they don't send me fleeing from a room. Mice on the other hand, well, that's a different story. I know they are afraid of me. I know they don't bite. I know they don't make noise. These things I know very well, but still I cannot stand them. Each year at the beginning and ending of winter we have a few of them make their home at my place of work. While we haven't seen one around for a couple of months, I still have a mousetrap sitting on the shelf next to my coffee cup and my co-workers laugh at me washing all the dishes with hot tub chlorine before I eat off anything.
The store was quiet at 2:30 or so today so I thought I'd go into the little room under the stairs behind my counter and grab my sandwich from my work bag (which I hang from an overhead nail so nothing can get into it). During "high" mouse season I bang the door and tell the little critters I'm coming in, but I'm getting lax with that now that it's been a while since I've seen one. So I just opened the door and went to step inside. Out of the corner of my eye I realized I had a customer standing at the counter. So much for sneaking a lunch break in. I turned and looked him in the eye and screamed ............ aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh! Even Dave at the back of the store stood to see what the heck was going on. Terri thought I was having a heart attack. There... right there in front of me was my son Glen. I cannot adequately express how that did my heart good. When your child becomes your child, whether you've given birth to them or not, you cannot unloose the tie, no matter what circumstances life hands you. Thank you Glen, for blessing me today.
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