Today Jeremy
was replacing guitar strings in the basement when a mouse ran across his guitar
case and disappeared. When Jeremy came upstairs to tell me about it, I reminded him
that his father is the mouse-control parent. Living in the woods as we do, discovering
a mouse in the house is not uncommon. My husband catches them in Havaheart
traps then releases them many miles from here, first providing a muffin for the
mouse’s first meal away from home.
Once
the guitar strings were replaced and Jeremy started practicing, the mouse came
out again. At first, the little creature panicked and ran straight into Jeremy’s
foot. After a while, the mouse got used to the music and sat listening. The
mouse did not toss a sunflower seed into the guitar case and make a request,
although that might happen at any time.
I
know this isn’t a plot. There isn’t a problem. The mouse doesn’t try three
times to solve it.
But
isn’t there a picture book here somewhere?
Go
ahead. Write it. Be my guest.