Time: 6:45 a.m.
Situation: JB came running into our room, eyes wide as saucers, panting and on the verge of tears. "MOM, there is something in my room! It's either a great big spider (hands rounded to the size of an orange) or a mouse!" So I, of course, said what every good mother says in a situation like this.... "Go tell daddy."
He was working on a morning report in his office, but bravely armed himself with a shoe and headed out to greet the deadly foe, whatever it was. I, of course did what every good mother does in a situation like this, and stayed in bed. Hiding.
Soon Daddy returned, to put on his bathrobe, a full pair of shoes, gloves, and to grab a towel to catch what had turned out to be a very young mouse that has trapped himself in JB's closet. I recall the placement of our fish net, and agree to go get it for him. I give him the net, and he bravely goes into the fray of mouse hunting. JB is on her bed and manages to give the little screams of "OH!" and "There he is!" at all the appropriate times whenever little mouse pokes out his head or tries to make a run for it. Daddy catches him in the net, trapped against the floor, but then realizes this isn't such a great plan, because as soon as he lifts the net, the mouse will take off. So quickly, he lifts the net, and throws the towel, covering the mouse, and scoops at all up into a ball. (Cue screams from JB). Daddy then braves the snow in his bathrobe to take the little guy outside and set him free. (Hooray! Hooray for daddy! Our Hero!)
Where was I during all of this? I, of course, was doing what every good mother does in a situation like this, and was planning my next blog post...