Herbert has moved upstairs.
In case you missed the first part of the case of Herbert the mouse, read this.
Apparently, the little chat Herbert and I had together in the basement didn't do anything but encourage him to come right on up stairs and see what all the fuss was about.
Last night, he squeezed through a hole in the floor of Diastema's room. I want you all to stand witness that I blame the fact that Herbert came upstairs all on my 8 year old son. He's been praying that, "Herbert won't die and be able to live cute for many years to come."
And since I believe in the power of prayer, especially the power of a child's prayer--I feel that Herbert may be here to stay.
However, I am completely creeped out. I'm ready to embrace my inner O.C.D. and clean every surface with bleach. I want to boil my laundry, floor, and even myself. There's no telling where that tricky Herbert may be lurking. I feel like all those survivors on "Lost" who lived in fear of the Smoke Monster that lived in the forest--except my house is the forest, and a wee little mousey has been cast in the part of the Smoke Monster.
I'm waiting for Sawyer to show up.
I hope he gets here soon.
Do I need to feel bad about calling the exterminator tomorrow?
And, why am I so creeped out by a mouse?
Up until relatively recently, humans lived with creepy crawly things all the time, when did I become so separated from nature? Sheesh...I need a therapist.