When you live in West Texas, it is inevitable that you will at some point come in contact with a creature who, in gentler terms, "has passed". Whether it be as you drive merrily down the road and are suddenly struck by the incredibly pungent odor of a dead skunk, or are the cause of a massive uprising of buzzards from the carcass of a too-slow deer.
Little Sunshine's first experience happened up close and personally in the construction site of our new home. As it is on a lot just outside of city limits, there is a plethora of mice in the neighboring fields, and it would seem one of the new neighbor's cats wished to give us a little house-warming present. Minus the head.
Little Sunshine came running and said, "Mama, mama, you have to see this!" I went and, yep, the headless mouse was dead alright. Little Sunshine squatted down and started to poke the carcass. "Don't do that! Don't touch it!" I yelled. She looked up at me startled.
I squatted down across from her and over the dearly departed, and explained: "Dead things carry diseases and lice and all sorts of bad things. Don't ever touch something dead, ok?" I realize my explanation may not have been completely scientifically accurate. But, you have to realize that a slight exaggeration was completely necessary to keep my future new home from being a morgue for everything she found dead in the yard or field.
When she looked at me, then back down at the mouse, then down at her hand and started to wipe her finger on her jeans, I knew we were too late. "Did you touch it??" I asked. I could see her considering the possible outcomes of either a positive or negative answer. "No?" she said hesitantly. "Ok, well, don't touch it because I don't want you to have diseases. I'd have to make you sleep outside." She looked at me with horror as I walked off.
A few minutes later, she presented herself in front of me, head bowed, lip stuck out and quivering. "Mama, do you really get diseases from touching dead things?"
"Why, did you touch the dead thing?"
She looked up at me with the saddest face you've ever seen, closed her eyes and nodded yes.
"Oh, Emma!" I sighed. "Well, I've heard that there is some special soap that might, just maybe, get rid of the diseases. I don't have any right now, so you will just have to put your hand in your pocket and not touch anything until we can get home."
"Ok", she said sadly.
Alright, alright, admittedly, I started to feel bad. But not that bad. I took her home, and made a big production of mixing "special soap" to wash her hands. (It was quite fortunate that I had a spot on the carpet that needed addressing, and I needed to mix up some of my spot remover.) I put on some gloves and asked to see her hand. "Well, it looks like maybe we've caught it in time. I don't see any mold or where your skin is about to fall off." She examined her hand closely. It was hard not to laugh as I washed her hand in special soap and sternly warned her to never, never touch a dead mouse again.
Everything was good until we went out to check the construction of the house a few days later. As I strolled what would eventually become our dining room, Little Sunshine banged on the window: "Mama! Do you have any special soap with you?"
Sigh. Guess I will have to figure out a different way to keep the dead vermin out.
Little Sunshine's first experience happened up close and personally in the construction site of our new home. As it is on a lot just outside of city limits, there is a plethora of mice in the neighboring fields, and it would seem one of the new neighbor's cats wished to give us a little house-warming present. Minus the head.
Little Sunshine came running and said, "Mama, mama, you have to see this!" I went and, yep, the headless mouse was dead alright. Little Sunshine squatted down and started to poke the carcass. "Don't do that! Don't touch it!" I yelled. She looked up at me startled.
I squatted down across from her and over the dearly departed, and explained: "Dead things carry diseases and lice and all sorts of bad things. Don't ever touch something dead, ok?" I realize my explanation may not have been completely scientifically accurate. But, you have to realize that a slight exaggeration was completely necessary to keep my future new home from being a morgue for everything she found dead in the yard or field.
When she looked at me, then back down at the mouse, then down at her hand and started to wipe her finger on her jeans, I knew we were too late. "Did you touch it??" I asked. I could see her considering the possible outcomes of either a positive or negative answer. "No?" she said hesitantly. "Ok, well, don't touch it because I don't want you to have diseases. I'd have to make you sleep outside." She looked at me with horror as I walked off.
A few minutes later, she presented herself in front of me, head bowed, lip stuck out and quivering. "Mama, do you really get diseases from touching dead things?"
"Why, did you touch the dead thing?"
She looked up at me with the saddest face you've ever seen, closed her eyes and nodded yes.
"Oh, Emma!" I sighed. "Well, I've heard that there is some special soap that might, just maybe, get rid of the diseases. I don't have any right now, so you will just have to put your hand in your pocket and not touch anything until we can get home."
"Ok", she said sadly.
Alright, alright, admittedly, I started to feel bad. But not that bad. I took her home, and made a big production of mixing "special soap" to wash her hands. (It was quite fortunate that I had a spot on the carpet that needed addressing, and I needed to mix up some of my spot remover.) I put on some gloves and asked to see her hand. "Well, it looks like maybe we've caught it in time. I don't see any mold or where your skin is about to fall off." She examined her hand closely. It was hard not to laugh as I washed her hand in special soap and sternly warned her to never, never touch a dead mouse again.
Everything was good until we went out to check the construction of the house a few days later. As I strolled what would eventually become our dining room, Little Sunshine banged on the window: "Mama! Do you have any special soap with you?"
Sigh. Guess I will have to figure out a different way to keep the dead vermin out.
Laughed out loud at this one!
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