This post is part of Just Jot it January, and today’s prompt comes to us courtesy of Kim. Check out her blog here!
Some family members you can happily live with, some not so much.
But I don’t think you’ll disagree that there are some family members none of us want to live with: the members of the rodent family.
True story that happened many years ago:
I walked into my kitchen one morning in time to see a mouse run under my stove. I shrieked, not because I’m afraid of mice, but because it startled me. I immediately got down on my hands and knees to look for the little critter, but there was no sign of it. I pulled out the drawer under the stove—nothing. It had disappeared.
But there were droppings. Lots of droppings.
I had someone pull the stove out from the wall to see if there was a hole it could have gotten through, but nothing was obvious. The next step was to take the side panels off the stove. Sure enough, there were more droppings in the insulation between the outside and inside walls of my oven. They’d built a nest. In my stove.
So I sold the house.
…
…
Okay, the family of mice might not have been the entire reason I sold the house, but I never cooked in the oven again—I didn’t want to bake the little buggers alive!—and the oven stayed in the house when I moved.
I did leave a note for the new owners.
It went something like:
The stove is yours, but not yours alone …
This reminiscing post is part of Just Jot it January! Want to join in? Just click here to get to the prompt and drop your link. It’s fun!
Thank you so much again, Kim, for the prompt!
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