(Courtesy of Flickr)
You don't believe me?
Well, not every common farmgirl can say that she has risen from a mid-day nap only to find a mouse resting on her clavicle.
It happened several years ago, in my childhood bedroom. We were home for Christmas and I found myself in need of a moment of solitude and rest.
Buried under a pile of blankets (no heat upstairs), I happily drifted off...
Only I kept having that annoying dream/reality that a fly was brushing against my face. It didn't make sense to my quasi-aware self because... it was December.
The dream/reality continued up until the smack-dab moment that my beady, brown eyes snapped open and locked with the beady, brown peepers of a wee, grey mouse. He darted down the length of the bed and returned from whence he came.
Yes, I shrieked.
There was really no other option, even for a non-shrieker such as myself.
I woke the neighborhood (i.e. my sleeping nephew).
It was so...so...unsettling, the whole experience. I had survived 15 years of my life in that very room without so much as a rodent wave. At least, not that I was ever aware of... And I worried about it, I did. Each time, my Dad would scoff at my ridiculocity (yep) and give me that tired line, "Those mice are more afraid of you than you are of them."
Mmmm hmmm.
I don't believe that I'll ever fully comprehend the invisible force that draws nocturnal furries to me in broad daylight. I wish I could say this incident was the first and only, but that just wouldn't be the truth.
Moral of the story: Mice can climb sheets.
