By the end of our school day, we all ended up standing on the same chair screaming at the top of our lungs.
Let me clarify what happened.
When the boys are finished with their schoolwork, I time them for 15 minutes and they clean up the basement where we have schooltime. The floor is often covered with old school papers, dropped pencils, toys, books, etc. and needs a hefty cleaning now and again.
I had decided to put a big pile together in the middle of the floor by sweeping everything together with the broom. I then told Grumpy to put the stuff away and everyone else had their own chore to do.
After some time, the pile began to decrease in size. I am in the middle of writing an email when all of a sudden, Grumpy yells, "I found the mouse!"
I look up in confusion and say, "Whaa?" thinking it was a stuffed animal he had found since he goes ga-ga for them anyway.
No sirree. It was a real mouse. He yells again, "It's the mouse! It's the mouse!"
After that, pandemonium breaks out. While the boys are screaming, I look at the middle of the pile when all I see is a dark blur that seems to be coming out of a daze (probably from all the screaming) and becomes a streak heading toward the wall. The mouse was so fast that I couldn't see its form or shape. It was just a blur, but I knew it was definitely a mouse and it was most definitely alive.
When the mouse became aware that it wasn't hiding under anything anymore, it ran. So did we. We all started screaming, myself the loudest, and we all headed for the same chair and stood on top of it. We continued screaming and Happy started crying.
After screaming for a few seconds and staring at the floor wondering where it went, the boys ran for the stairs as fast as they could go.
"Where's the kitty?" they yelled to themselves. "She's in the laundry room! Get her down here right now and close the door!" I yelled. They picked her up from her comfortable bed of dirty laundry, plopped her on the stairs, and slammed the basement door.
Now this cat has not been the best mouser I've ever seen. In fact, she's lousy at it. When she came downstairs, she ran to the corner, but I convinced her to go toward the place where the mouse was last seen.
I was hoping to hear an attack of some kind with lots of hissing and fierce meowing, but it was very quiet. A few minutes later, there's the cat trying to get at the birds. I looked over at her and said, "Will you leave those birds alone, for Pete's sake, and come over here and get this mouse? Where's the hunter in you anyway?"
I have a feeling that I will not be able to get the boys to finish cleaning up the mess today.
Let me clarify what happened.
When the boys are finished with their schoolwork, I time them for 15 minutes and they clean up the basement where we have schooltime. The floor is often covered with old school papers, dropped pencils, toys, books, etc. and needs a hefty cleaning now and again.
I had decided to put a big pile together in the middle of the floor by sweeping everything together with the broom. I then told Grumpy to put the stuff away and everyone else had their own chore to do.
After some time, the pile began to decrease in size. I am in the middle of writing an email when all of a sudden, Grumpy yells, "I found the mouse!"
I look up in confusion and say, "Whaa?" thinking it was a stuffed animal he had found since he goes ga-ga for them anyway.
No sirree. It was a real mouse. He yells again, "It's the mouse! It's the mouse!"
After that, pandemonium breaks out. While the boys are screaming, I look at the middle of the pile when all I see is a dark blur that seems to be coming out of a daze (probably from all the screaming) and becomes a streak heading toward the wall. The mouse was so fast that I couldn't see its form or shape. It was just a blur, but I knew it was definitely a mouse and it was most definitely alive.
When the mouse became aware that it wasn't hiding under anything anymore, it ran. So did we. We all started screaming, myself the loudest, and we all headed for the same chair and stood on top of it. We continued screaming and Happy started crying.
After screaming for a few seconds and staring at the floor wondering where it went, the boys ran for the stairs as fast as they could go.
"Where's the kitty?" they yelled to themselves. "She's in the laundry room! Get her down here right now and close the door!" I yelled. They picked her up from her comfortable bed of dirty laundry, plopped her on the stairs, and slammed the basement door.
Now this cat has not been the best mouser I've ever seen. In fact, she's lousy at it. When she came downstairs, she ran to the corner, but I convinced her to go toward the place where the mouse was last seen.
I was hoping to hear an attack of some kind with lots of hissing and fierce meowing, but it was very quiet. A few minutes later, there's the cat trying to get at the birds. I looked over at her and said, "Will you leave those birds alone, for Pete's sake, and come over here and get this mouse? Where's the hunter in you anyway?"
I have a feeling that I will not be able to get the boys to finish cleaning up the mess today.
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