Squirrel in the bedroom
"Mama! I see a squirrel in the bedroom!"
Huh? I think.
My 4-year-old daughter nearly falls over in glee if my work outfit for the day involves "tip toe shoes" (what she calls heels) and a skirt (she's given up on me putting on the green sequin dress I wear for super formal weddings).
Last week, after leaving her in her bed for a few more minutes of warmth under the covers, I hear hollered from her room:
"Mama! I see a squirrel in the bedroom!"
Huh? I think while putting on a straight pencil skirt with my black tip toe shoes.
Keep in mind we hear squirrels scampering on our roof. We hear them in the attic although let's pretend that isn't happening. But - oh no - there is a squirrel in my baby's bedroom.
"WHAT?!" I yell as I try to keep my skirt on as I rush down the hall, tripping over those tip toe shoes.
The blond curls pop out from under the covers.
"Mama, I want to see you twirl!"
Oh. Of course. I pull my outfit together and spin around. But the pencil skirt doesn't flair out.
Little lady looks very disappointed. The look says "what is the point of wearing a skirt if it doesn't twirl?"
But at least there wasn't a squirrel watching me twirl.
9 comments:
Snort!
well you know what should be on y our shopping list now huh: a better twirling skirt! The squirrels are waiting.
Yeah - more twirly skirts ... they're easier to run in. Wedgie tip-toe shoes are easier to run in, too.
(I will confess to clicking in quickly because the headline implied that this post might have been about something kinky.)
Spring is here and so is the nice weather and fun out door times. Nice to see you back to bloggin. As always kids seem to brighten the day at times.
that would be disconcerting. ;) a while back Julie at Using My Words wrote about when the racoon got into her house. now that was funny.
What was the deal with the squirrel then?
I have kids I don't even know stop me and ask me to twirl my skirt! (And since I never wear pencil skirts, they are rarely disappointed.)
My son found a baby squirrel in a parking lot while out Home Depot shopping with his dad once. This was when he was about two. He came home and said, "MOM! We found a squirrel in the parking lock!" (Yeah, he said "parking lock" with such conviction.) They had brought the baby home in one of his father's boots that had been in the truck. His little eyes were still shut. We raised that little guy (whose eyes never opened, so we named him Mr. Magoo) and although he had a cage, we never kept him in it. He just ran around the house. (And no, we weren't on a farm.) At one point, daddy got tired of having a squirrel in the house, so he banned him to the garage. It got too cold, and he wasn't accustomed to it, so he was dead in the morning. (The squirrel, not the dad.) At least that's my theory.
Oh how I dreaded telling my son that his squirrel was dead. He got up, and I knelt down and said, "Honey... I have some bad news." He just looked at me with those wide blue eyes. I said, "Your squirrel died in the night." He stood there and thought for a minute and then said, "Now we have to go get another squirrel who is NOT dead!"
That's my squirrel story.
hehe what a trickster!
love it.
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