Dear diary, I’m having tea and rice cakes with a mouse this morning to an episode of Downton Abbey. This isn’t at all how I thought I’d be starting my day; nor do I have any complaints. I was running late…missed my alarm. Machaela tried waking me up before 6—a role reversal of sorts, but she’s an early riser. After what felt like only a few moments, my eyes opened and focused in on the digits of the clock… 7:12. 4 missed calls. Oops. I jolted upright, had a few seconds of irrational panic, and spent the rest of the morning over-compensating for my tardiness. It was all a blur of limbs reaching for cereal boxes, putting the milk away, gently tugging on strands of hair to make braids for one daughter while the other just wanted hers to be brushed… water bottles… making sure they didn’t forget to wear pants (every child’s nightmare)… shoes… vitamins… *time check*… Oh! Feeding the dogs! I almost forgot! It was two minutes past when we usually leave to head down for the bus. I was walking into the utility room for some kibble when I saw it. Our eyes met. It didn’t even run. I’d like to think that it identified a morsel of compassion through the windows to my soul. It might have even smiled—but probably not—in my mind though, when I think back… there was the hint of a smile. I knew my Dad had snap traps set all over the house because there’s been a mouse at large (or small—as it were) … and just the thought of the little creature meeting its demise before it was old and grey-er… I knew I had to act fast. I quickly glanced around for something I could use… an empty plastic jug… perfect! Mind you, it was now 4 minutes past when the girls and I were supposed to leave, so I frantically spammed the unlock button on the key fob while unscrewing the lid of the jug with my other hand—cradling it for stability with my elbow. “Girls, get in the car—I’ll be right out!” I caught the mouse. But didn’t have time to do anything with it. Or to even figure out step 2. And then, I remembered that I forgot to get their snacks ready for the day… (or rather, my Mom reminded me as I was rushing out the door). So I grabbed the jug of mouse, 2 sandwich bags, and a stack of rice cakes… I’d assemble them in the car. My plan was to release my new beady-eyed friend into the wild down at the bus stop. But it was cold. And I remembered my favorite cartoon growing up…"An American Tail”… and the song “Somewhere Out There” crept out from the confines of my innermost psyche… but we were thankfully on time for the bus. I quickly put together the girls’ snack bags for school as the bus was rolling into view and handed one off to each, blowing kisses and giving thumbs-ups to reinforce the tone of a great day ahead. I waved the “I love you” sign as the bus pulled away—children safely in tow… and then waved to the curly-haired woman who always parks in front of me…I’m pretty sure she thinks the “I love you”s are for her because she always waves to me before she drives off. I don’t mind. Everyone deserves to feel loved. Or waved at. Or both. But there was still the matter of little Fievel Mousekewitz… I shuddered at the thought of him shivering in the cold… his tiny little heart beating extra fast to try to compensate the warmth… so we drove back to the house together… I, vowing to let him loose outside during the warmer part of the day so he has some time to go house hunting before the chill bites back. …which brings us to now. Rice cake tidbits, tea, and Norah Jones sing-alongs. It looks like I found myself a little manuscript buddy today and he found a new lease on life [and is now using some of the cotton balls and napkins I gave him to make a mouse-sized pillow fort]. Sincerely, me. ***before anyone gets on me about feeding a mouse rice cakes… rest assured… they were gluten-free and little Fievel was released back into the wild the same day... after it warmed up a little bit.***
Kaleidoscopic Grace 