I hate chipmunks. I know that sounds horrible especially because they are considered to be the Justin Bieber of the varmint family--namely cute--but in my corner of the world, they are just like mice. For some reason this season, we have a proliferation of chipmunks, scampering around the yard, jumping into gutter downspouts, hiding in car engines, and setting up house in my garage. And just yesterday, one actually had the cheek to break into my house.
Well, it's not really "breaking in" when someone leaves the door open. Which I did. My husband had pulled out of the driveway for his morning trek to work and I had left the door to the house open. Much to my surprise, a chipmunk raced into the house right in front of me as I walked back in. I screamed, of course. And then I chased him into the back bathroom and shut the door. Tight.
Then like any good wife with the whim whams, I called my husband, who promptly turned the car around and headed back home to save me. Not one for killing animals, he instructed me to arm myself with a broom. He carefully opened the bathroom and chased the furry burglar out. The rodent raced down the hall right toward me. Screaming to beat the band, with one brave swoop, I swept him out of the open door with such gusto, he flew across the garage right into the driveway.
I kissed my hero and off he went to work to bring home the bacon. As for Alvin and his cohorts, I live to face them another day. And you can rest assured, next time, I will be prepared.
Check out my Erie Times-News blog.
No comments:
Post a Comment