So I'm trying very hard to fall back asleep in the early morning, knowing that I have to get up for the day at 5:30 a.m. It's 2:00 am and once again I'm up, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. I've learned that when I'm in this condition there's no point in lying there, I need to get up.
So off to the kitchen I wander, bundled up in my son's XXL Mexican alpaca zip-up poncho and my L.L. Bean wool socks.
I fix myself a steaming cup of mint green tea and open up a sleeve of salt-free saltines. (An oxymoron?)
I watch 5 minutes of a movie called 'Booty Call'. It became obvious why this movie was on at 2 o'clock in the morning, so I flick channels. Discovering nothing worth watching, I check up on some blogs I enjoy and then go back to bed. Eventually I almost doze off....
Around 5 a.m. I hear muffled voices from the adjacent bathroom, but choose to ignore it. My son goes to bed at ungodly hours sometimes, so I've learned to tune-out noises coming from the house. I also have 2 cats that make weird noises and keep weird hours.
At 5:45 I shuffle into the kitchen. Mr. Downeastdoingstuff is already up and on his laptop. If you have been keeping track of his impending surgery adventure, you know he didn't go back to work after getting booted out of the hospital. But he gets up anyway, just about every morning, work or no work, when it's still dark.
"There's a critter in the house" he says.
"What? Again?"
"Yeah," he answered, "I was sitting on the toilet and a chipmunk came running in followed by both girls."
"You're kidding?"
"Nope. The darn thing ran around the toilet a couple of times chased by the cats."
(stiffle giggle) "While you were on the toilet?" I asked. (stiffle...stiffle...stiffle)
"Yeah."
"Where," I inquire, "is it now?"
"I don't know."
This isn't the first time this has happened in our 190 year old house. The house is not as air-tight as I would like it to be.
I knew something was up the night before. When the cats park themselves in front of a large piece of furniture or major appliance and stare at it as if Mickey Mouse himself was due to pop out at any moment, I know something is lurking in the dark.
But I had to go to work, so I let the thoughts of this incident drift out of my mind.
Until last night.
I get home after a draining couple of hours at the Mall. My fuzzy gloves currently reside at the Mall as they fell out of my pocket somewhere in my travels from store to store.
"What's the critter news," I ask.
"No news. It's still here somewhere."
"Have you seen it?"
"Yeah, it's running around."
To make a long story short, around 8:30 PM I hear sounds like something is being beaten to death with a broom. That's because something was being beaten to death by a broom.
In my bathroom. On my heated floor. On my white alabaster grout.
This is Mr. Downeastdoingstuff's story....
"This is a cautionary tale... you might NOT want to read on. All card carrying members of PETA should leave this post at this time... It might have been a Chip, might have been a Dale..., but for sure it certainly was a chipmunk. After watching its antics all day I can say this, it WAS a dancer, but NOT a member of the Chippendales. The cats and I tracked this critter ALL day, from room to room. Cats wanted to play--- I had more sinister plans. Near the end - it jumped up about 5 feet, straight into the air and even landed for a moment, on my fleece. Scary????? It reminded me of the "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" scene when the squirrel jumped out of the tree and turned the household into turmoil. Ha! Now weaker individuals(read: 'pussies', wimps, and spleeny people w/o backbone... my mom's words) would have cowered at even the thought of taking on this 1 1/2 inch 'beast'. However, after the 'damage' was done all I could think of was-- this guy (me) stays home from work for this?"
OK, here is the evidence...if you are faint of heart, don't look. (There's no blood)
Ready?
Rest in Peace, Chip.
The murder weapon.
Case closed.....til next time.
The murder weapon.