My morning started with the usual routine. Up and ready for work by 5am. I entered the garage, settled into the driver’s seat, and as I was placing the key in the ignition, I looked up to see a mouse walking across the metal bar on the garage door – eye level – right in front of me.

The garage door? Seriously? Could he have been more obvious? Hello, I back my car into the garage. At this point, yes, I was sure it was a “he”. No female would be so bold. Does he not know who lives in this house? Hasn’t he heard the stories about the crazy lady who freaks out when she sees a rodent? I guess he missed the memo.

Why THAT bar? He could have picked the lower bar (below the bumper) or the higher bar (above my view). Oh no. That would be too easy. How about staying in the other 2/3 of the garage, out of my line of sight? I don’t even glance at the third bay that houses the lawn mower, ladders, and misc. man gadgets. Seriously, Freddy Krueger could be standing next to the lawnmower when I walk to my car in the mornings and I would not notice him. There are dozens of places for critters to live comfortably in that part of the garage, never to be seen by me. No, this rodent was making a statement.

Wait a minute, why was he in my garage? It was 60 degrees outside this weekend. Get outside. Enjoy the fresh air. Who cares if the temp drops below freezing at night? He’s got a winter coat. Man up you rat. This garage isn’t big enough for both of us.

Girls, I was like one of those people who stare at the crash site as they are driving past a wreck. As he was making his way along the length of the bar, I could not look away. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Then, in my panic, (and you knew the panic was going to set in any time now), I hit the garage door opener and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to know where he went when he reached the end of the bar. That thought was a bit short sighted.

As I was sitting there with my eyes closed, listening to the door raise, a vision flashed before me of that arrogant rodent landing spread eagle across my windshield right in front of me! After all, he was taunting me from the bar on the garage door. OMG! What was I thinking? Could my actions have actually brought him in closer proximity to me? Now I couldn’t open my eyes.

After the garage door stopped, I waited a few more seconds in silence. I convinced myself that he could not be on the windshield because I hadn’t heard anything “land” on the windshield, (and I was REALLY listening). Ok. Good. He wasn’t on the windshield. However, it was dark outside, and I lost track of him while the door was opening. What if the rodent ninja is lurking on the roof of the car? What if I pull back the cover on the sunroof, and the little stalker is standing there looking down at me? Yikes! I was NOT touching the sunroof cover. I didn’t want to know. Ok, now I had the “creeps”.

It’s a good thing the car wasn’t running when I saw him or I probably would have thrown it in gear and tried to run him down. That would have ended badly for me, my car, and the garage door. I’m pretty sure the perp would have come out of that one just fine. Cooler heads prevailed, at least for a few minutes. The garage door closed and I drove off in the darkness. I managed to escape without incident, but what was I going to do tonight?

I didn’t want to bother my husband at his job with a hysterical phone call describing the incident, but I definitely wanted him to be aware of the situation so he could take care of it BEFORE I got home, so I sent him a text message when I had reached my destination.

“HELP! Mouse in the garage. We need to move NOW.”
(That is code for: I don’t want to come home until it is gone. And yes, I would even entertain the idea of moving to get away from it.)

I know, it sounds ridiculous, but it is a problem of mouse-umental proportions in my mind.

His reply was, “Ok”.

Really? “Ok”? You are married to a woman who turns into a crazy person when a mouse violates her space and you think she is going to find comfort in a response of “ok”? It was not ok. Not even close.

My expectation was that he would launch a full scale assault, providing me with an “all clear” when the mission was complete, (verbal confirmation is fine – no visual required). Then I could return home to my safe, happy, rodent free zone. What is the problem?

My husband is an avid sportsman. Any opportunity to hunt, track, snag, or chase something is sport for him. This mission is probably not terribly challenging, and certainly not as exciting as finding a 30 point buck in your garage, (it could happen), but it is sport none the less. At the very least, chase it out. It’s a 3 car garage. Open all the bays, start banging on things and shining a flashlight in the corners. If the mangy thing had any sense at all, it would run right out of the garage to the safety (and quiet) of the great outdoors. I should be so lucky….

It’s now 6pm. I am still waiting for the “all clear”. It is going to be a long night.