At some point yesterday, there was a playful APB put out on my balls.
Let me assure you, they will not be on display on this blog. Frankly, they are not fans of sunlight. Additionally, there’s always the risk of moisture out in the open and we all know what that would mean.
So rather than write about how they do serve their purpose — despite being attached to a guy who likes a Taylor Swift song — and pretend like I didn’t laugh when I read the DC Blogs teaser, I thought I’d just share a story about a time when the boys were in grave, grave danger of literal extinction.
That’s right. Back on the TMI Thursday train! Chicka-chicka-woo-woo!¹
With that…
Too Close for Comfort
It’s dark; so I turn on the light. It gets brighter.
I’m in the bathroom at “someone else’s” house.² I’d needed to use the bathroom, so… I’d gone into the bathroom.
This house — this house of “someone else” — has a rodent problem. Correction: mice have been so bold as to just chill on the sofa next to you while watching TV. At first, as an invited guest, I had offered my rodent-elimination skills (read: a baseball bat and a floor covered with saran wrap for easy clean-up)³. Eventually, I just gave up trying and looked out for self.
On this fateful night I enter the bathroom, I am not alone. I learn this frightful fact too late.
I am standing over the thing where the stuff you don’t want anymore goes to die, with my pants… ajar. Just about finished, I notice a sound behind the thing that takes the stuff you’re no longer interested in carrying around on the inside.
I freeze. I am surprised. I wonder why I have never heard this sound from the thing that collects organic leftovers before.
I see a mouse poke its head out from behind the machine that collects unwanted donations.ª
(Note. If you’re so sure you’d have gathered yourself immediately and zipped up as quick as gravity and your motor skills allow, trust this: you are full of stuff the machine I’ve been talking about figuratively collects.)
I stay frozen. And then it happens.
The mouse freaks out and leaps. into. the. air.
Did you know mice can jump two feet straight up into the air? I didn’t.
I do now.
Do you know how high two feet is on a man who’s somewhere between 5’11″ and 6′? High enough to have everything his sexual life has been and everything it could be flash by.º
I jump back in utter horror against the wall and swing my left foot at that little piece of Satan. I miss, but I get close enough to let it know that if life is like a chocolate bar, this is not one of those “sometimes you feel like a nut” moments.
It continues to freak out. I continue to freak out. It makes its way for the door and squeezes through a crack. I thank the great baby jebus. I walk out tattered and broken but alive and in full possession of what really matters in life.
_________
¹C’mon ride the train, and ride it. C’mon ride the train, it’s the choo-choo…
²To protect the lives of others, I won’t even use fake blog names.
³Just so you know, I love animals. But I have a rule: if it is in the house, and it doesn’t leave when asked nicely, there are few rules. I’m sorry, rodents and insects, I know we’ve built our homes in your habitat, but we’re not going back to caves so deal and respect the boundaries.
ªWordPress.com has run out of numerical footnotes. But just in case I’ve lost you, I am talking about the toilet.
ºStick that measurement in your metric system.
WHOA. That sounds intense. As the victim of a lizard-jumps-down-my-shirt experience, I feel your pain, and I’m glad you came out of it in one piece.
A lizard? Like a gecko? God. If that mouse had made it that close to me… Actually, let’s not think about that.
If that happened to me I’d sissy out quicker than Clay Aiken.
You understand me.
This made me laugh so hard. I hate rodents, my cat takes care of them for me, in this situation I probably would have cried.
Did I forget to mention the crying? Because maybe I cried.
Holy fuck. I had no idea that meeeceee jumped.
Was this BEFORE or AFTER the TS love was admitted? Cause… well you know why.
(no you will never ever live it down. ever. even if you try to delete the blog like it never happened. ever.)
Mice. Jump. And it was way before TS and I will not delete! I will stand by it… at least for now.
[...] f.B’s too close for comfort [...]
I may have just done a ‘Three snorts in a row without giggling’ as a reaction to this blog.
Because I totally imagined the expression on your face.
You do realize, now that I know where you live and have been invited into your home, this gives me ample opportunities to find ways to make you relive this horror…at least in your mind.
Think about it.
And you can’t uninvite me. So pft.
Oh my God. This post just made my day. Hilarious AND five footnotes! (I promise I’ll stop commenting on the footnotes someday. Just, well, not today.)
The one and only time I saw a mouse (in my kitchen! ugh!), I screamed so loudly that two neighbors came running, thinking I was being diced apart by a burgler. I think I would have passed the fuck out if I was having my toilet time and came that close to a rodent.
My first job out of college I worked in this woman’s basement. She has mice, large mice. One ran over my foot once…when I was wearing a sandal.
Yikes! You are brave, brave man. Rodents and insects are NEVER welcome in my living quarters.
My metric system’s brain just exploded.
Hehe! Mice on your balls. Any crack house should be able to accommodate you if you ever want to feel it again.
Um, I was NOT aware that mice jump. And I hope to never learn that firsthand.
Besides laughing my ass off, all I could imagine is that mouse jumping 2 feet from the toilet seat, grabbing onto your man bits and crawling into your pants.
Holy crap. I did not know mice can jump at all, let alone that high. I don’t even know what I would have done. I keep imagining it (sorry – not a pervert! ha!) and while it is kinda hilarious, it wouldn’t be if it happened to me! Eek. And Yuck!
Damn son, mice? Really? Ouch.
that poor, poor little mouse…there he was, all snoozing or cleaning, when he hears the sound of liquids echoing in the giant porcelain swimming pool and he looks out and what does he see? A hooman!
And then years later you like a Taylor Swift song and actually lose the thing the mouse once tried to take…yeah, that sounds about right.
That is just so very wrong…. Somehow I couldn’t help but imagine what would have happened if it was me, as a woman, seated on the toilet…. aaarrrgggghhhhhhh
oh HELL no! The last time we had mice was when we lived out in the country (inevitable, field mice) I got up in the middle of the night half asleep and stumbled to the kitchen for a drink of water. I was walking back. Still stumbling. Still half asleep. That’s when I felt it. A little bit of snap, crackle pop. I turned the light on. That’s when I saw it. A baby mouse, half cracked. That’s when I HEARD it.
*squeak*squeak*
dang that sounds scary!
dang that sounds scary!…