The O-2 is where we have had Heaven Fest offices the past couple of years. It is down the hall and around the corner past the elevator from the main church offices. It is painted charcoal on dark gray to be very cool. But I affectionately call our cubicles (not low enough to be seen over, but too high to know when some one is about to pop over and scare the heck out of you) “The Bat Cave.”
Fast Forward.
I am knocking frantically on Sebastian’s office door Friday night. I can tell by his understated, “Yeeeees?” that I am interrupting his dinner. But it is like 10 o’clock and he should really be eating earlier than that! For his health.
Anyway, I say:
“Sebastian?!? I walked into the O-2 and there was this animal. I don’t think it was a mouse, but it kind of looked like a mouse, but way cuter. Because you know-mice are tiny and dart around and are gray or brown, right – like field mice and very nervous and annoying. But when I opened the door, it was there and maybe it is a gerbil or hamster or something because it was very big – like maybe like 2 or 3 pounds, not mouse-tiny. I mean it was just sitting there looking at me and it was white with a really cute face and very delicate whiskers. It had brown coloring on it. Well, maybe more like honey-gold colored spots, actually. And it was very fat with short-looking legs, but I think it was about to have babies and couldn’t seem to move very fast. And I think it had a long tail, but basically I was looking at it and it was looking back and I told it to run, but it could only sort of waddle into the back cubicle. Do you think it was a mouse? It was soooo big, but I don’t think it was a rat because rats aren’t cute and this clearly had a cute face.”
There may or may not have actually been punctuation or periods of any sort in that entire monologue. It could have been one, long run-on sentence.
I took a breath. Sebastian got a word in edge-wise.
“So you’re saying you got a good look at it, then?”
Me, ignoring his apparent mockery:
“What? Oh, yes. It was cute, but do you have any D-Con?”
And then I did it. I opened the box of D-Con and said, “Here, little pregnant animal, come and get it.” Because I really wasn’t sure what it was and since there was a Cub Scout meeting going on in the building it clearly could have been smuggled in by some little boy, but regardless, there is just not room in the Bat Cave for anyone else. We need the space.
What do you think? Am I cruel?
I searched Google for images. It looked a lot like these. Very cute like the one on the left, but the spots were lighter, and the face was very white like the one on the right. And fat. Mice. Just a mouse. It turns out. And maybe less than 2 or 3 pounds?
Here is Sebastian-the-Poison-Provider with his gorgeous and amazingly wonderful wife, Denise, with their two cutie-patootie boys!
It’s OK if you poison the rat he was just a footsoldier in my rodent army. Mt commander Ben will be sending reinforcements tonight!
Haha! Is that as in: “Ben, the two of us need look no more. We’ve both found what we’ve been looking for…” I can just hear Michael now…
Maybe you should think of changing the name from Batcave to Ratcave.
Oh my gosh, I love looking at your blog each and every day…you know I am a lover of your writings. Today I began my daily reading and absolutely freaked out to see the little critters and my beautiful little family on your blog! Of course I called Sebastian and said, “holy cow, we’re on Jeannie’s Blog!” He cracked up! I said you’ve got to read it! He said, “Denise I was there, I know what happened.” Isn’t that just like Sebastian? ;)
I’m glad Sebastian had what you needed. I would have done the same thing as those critters just do me in. I imagine them with their little hands over their mouths, falling over with laughter at that grown woman (me) acting like she’s seen a grizzly bear or something far worse.
Hey, Denise! I was hoping you’d see this entry. I was going to email you and tell you about it. And yes. Sebastian? Is hilarious!!
Yes, the rodent MUST die.