MIIITHCE!

It has rained all day.  Like, allllll day.  I'm not sure the drizzle ever let up, and now it is pouring.  Even by Midwest standards, this is a bit much.

So even though it has been gloomy, we started off on a bright note:

One less tooth, lots more lisping, all before lunch!  Now she keeps asking, "when will I get brathces?" like it is going to be something exciting.  I haven't had the heart to tell her how terrible braces actually are.

Losing a big front tooth is exciting stuff.  Probably enough excitement to last the whole of a rainy, gloomy day.  But why stop there?

As I posted on Facebook - if you've gotta pound through a rainy, cold day, why not make it worse by sorting through kids clothes?  Just for fun, I started dragging bins of clothes up from the basement after lunch.  I got through the first two bins without difficulty (other than kids continually asking what I was doing, if they could help, and if not help could they at least eat something?)  But the third bin is when everything came to a screeching halt.  It started when I got a few items in and found this:

At this point, I really didn't know what I was getting into.  I was naive.

It wasn't long before I found more balls of fuzz, partially dissentigrated clothes, and eventually came upon this:

OHMYGAHDOYOUSEETHAT.  

I know you do.  

You cannot imagine the screams, especially considering Tanner was the first to see those little suckers.  I think she screamed something like, "MIIITHCE!!!"

And not just mice.  Baby mice.  NEONATE mice.  Which left me concerned about the disposition of their mother.  So of course I consulted a friend for my next move.  

I begged her to come over and help, but she insisted she was a better friend over texting than in person.  #rude

As I gingerly took out more and more clothes, I only found more fuzz and mouse excrement. Which I was actually pleased with, because I did not want to run into Momma Mouse.

But look how tiny they are! (or should I say, were?)

So after staring at them, frozen, for...oh...three million seconds (roughly)...and listening to them squeak and squeal because they were irritated by someone shining light on them and dismantling their nest...John finally made it home to save the day.  With kitchen tongs and a paper plate, of course (hey, our knights come in all shapes and sizes, ok??)

A quick google search tells me that they were 5 days old.  I won't go into the details of the ending to their short stay in my clothes bin, other than to say they *were* five days old.  

So as I sit here under my fuzzy fleece blanket, listening to rain continue to fall, refusing to turn on the heat in mid-July, I'm adding one more animal to our Nottingham Drive menagerie list:

Turkey

Raccoon

Groundhog

Turtle

Frogs

Neonate Mice

Now let's hope Momma Mouse likes peanut butter.