I need some outlet for what I'm feeling. I realize going public with this could elicit too much sympathy or too much ire--or both. My first experience in the office this morning was a call to rescue damsels in distress. Our preschool director and one of the mothers discovered a mouse in the ladies room. OK, there wasn't any stereotypical screaming, but I did hear some female voice agreeing that they each were not going to touch it.
The director came to my door and asked if I would get the mouse out of the ladies room. I was reassured it was a baby--what's reassuring about that?
I picked up a dish towel and was fully expecting to be removing a dead mouse. My surprise was that he was alive and as cute as could be. I scooped him up and headed to the door. He weighed nothing. He was "this big", yet I could feel his body heat through two layers of fluffy dish towel.
My heart was breaking! I knew I had to expel this little critter from the office area, but I also knew that meant putting him out in the cold. Where's Ellie Mae Clampett when you need her?
1 comment:
Where is the ending, what happened to God's furry harmless creature? Did you really leave him in the cold without his family?
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