Monday, December 14, 2009

Shame on You, Walt

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house. Not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse…..

Better darn well not be a mouse in this house! I have an innate fear of mice. I know it comes from my childhood when my sister was terrified by mice. We could hear mice scamper through the walls of the house, and, saw them at church and in the barns. Mice. Argh!

There must be a mouse union that was organized to change the image of mousedom. I believe it started with Walt Disney. I always wondered what his offices were like where a little mouse was permitted to visit him often. Having gone to Disneyland a couple of years ago, with my children huddling me away from the long line we’d been standing in to the Peter Pan ride, I know that Disney did indeed know the critters intimately.

The commotion around us was unseen by me. At last we had arrived to the ramp of the ride. Suddenly, I was whisked away from the venue with the explanation that they were closing the ride. Well, that wasn’t true. A few little big eared creatures not really resembling Mickey had appeared in the line. In order to keep their mother from screaming, she was shuttled off. My son later approached an employee telling her of the mouse infestation. We were to learn that no creatures were slain on the grounds of the park. Enough already! A mouse is a mouse. A cockroach is a cockroach. If you aren’t going to herd these critters off of Disneyland property then eliminate them!!!!!

We had Mighty Mouse. Cinderella had her mice. Major cartoon movie stars are often mice. A mouse ran up the clock. A mouse pulled a thorn from the lions paw. However, never is a mouse portrayed as a nibbling critter that makes his way into cereal boxes, chews on things in the attic and stealthfully finds his way into homes in the winter.

My dog had passed away. It was the first winter without her. After 2 years of having Sadie protect my home, mice appeared. I bought poison, but they dined on it as if it were a gourmet delight. A co-worker suggested traps. I’d never set a trap. So, going deeper in debt to eradicate these critters, I bought traps. After a few attempts to snap off my finger, I had the method down pat.

Now setting the traps has nothing to do with emptying the traps. I knew I could not go home to find a mouse limp in the trap with its tongue hanging over a piece of cheese. So this co-worker went home with me. She opened the door to the kitchen, “Got one,” she said. A scream heard around the world escaped my lips deafening my friend. “You better stay out here,” she said. “ It’s just a tiny mouse.”

Tiny!!!! I’m like the elephant running across the field at the sight of the long-tailed monsters. Size has nothing to do with these rodents who lie in wait. I am upset that we hold these critters as idols to our children. It is wrong that drawings portray them as cute and cuddly. Today I make a statement. Down with mice as heroes! Just tell me, what has a mouse ever done that was heroic?

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