Remember in the 80’s… when it was cool to peg your pants and tuck them into your socks? I did something similar not too terribly long ago. However, I did it to SAVE MY LIFE…
The Mouse in My Car
One day, I decided to vacuum my mini-van. I was hunting for petrified french fries and hoping the spilled milk was dry enough it would flake off. I’m kidding
Not actually.
No I’m kidding.
I’m really not.
I digress.
I vacuumed and vacuumed and vacuumed my way to an acceptable level of clean. Gone are the days of “truly” clean.
I headed back home. The children and I piled out of the car when, when, when…. I saw it. It.
IT.
A. MOUSE.
Where did he come from? I was ALLOVER that van with the vacuum.
I don’t even know.
I saw him run from the back of my van… to the tippy, tippy front.
*EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK*
I tried to scream him out of the van.
I tried to hyperventilate enough to concern him out of my van.
The Evil Eye was also of no use.
That little “I Dream of Jeanie” nose thing?… Doesn’t work.
I had to go in.
I found a broom handle and flailed it about in such a way I almost made call backs for the local drill team.
Almost.
Long story short…
I couldn’t find the mouse. Was he still in the car? Did he escape? I had no way to know for sure… and I HAD to get back in the van…
GollyonlyknowswhatwassoimportantIwouldgetbackintothatvan!
So, I committed a fashion no-no.
I did something no one should EVER do.
I tucked my pants into my socks and drove.
I didn’t have immediate access to a genuine space suit, so I chose the next-best option.
This was the only time in my life I regretted not chasing after that astronaut career.
I figured tucking my pants into my socks was my best option.
Without a space suit the mouse might be able to nibble me me to death, help steer, or build a nest in my hair, but there was NO WAY that little tiny baby mouse was gonna climb up my pants.
