In my attempt to blog more often, I'm going to include a post about the horrors of being a cat owner. Of course, I love my cat. But I'm sure this is a situation that every cat owner has dealt with at some point. And it has to do with these furry guys:
Also, to make this post more tolerable to the squeamish, I've chosen to include illustrations by Beatrix Potter from The Tale of Two Bad Mice and The Story of Miss Moppet. Please enjoy =)
Anyway, so I was asleep. Minding my own business. Dreaming about something. I know that I was dreaming because I distinctly remember my dream oddly turning into me writing something with a pencil that had very squeaky lead.
Suddenly, I realized that I was dreaming, but also awake (does that ever happen to you? I hope it does or else I sound crazy). Now, my brain somehow registered that squeaky pencils were not a normal nighttime sound.
I was instantly wide awake because I also noticed that Jack was on my bed. And he was making some very sporadic movements. My brain was able to piece these two facts together very quickly.
I turned on my light, and - of course - there was Jack on my bed with his present for me. A live mouse. That was squeaking (hence my awake-dream).
Of course, I screamed. My mom was instantly awake and when she heard the word 'mouse' made the wise decision to send my dad in to help. Jack, noticing that I was not pleased with his gift, dropped it and after regaining its senses, it scurried off the bed and under a piece of furniture. I believe this was the expression on Jack's face at the time: