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I’ve always been and thought of myself as a tomboy. Played all the rough sports with the boys, loved all sorts of ooey gooey critters — I’m not afraid of snakes or spiders! I don’t wear much makeup; I get my nails done MAYBE once a year — got my first EVER pedicure last year and while it was a very pleasant experience, I have no plans to get another any time soon.
So that makes me not a girly-girl, right?
Well, except for one thing.
Mice.
I cannot stand mice and/or rats. And let’s get even more technical than that… wild mice and rats. The ones in the pet store are fine and don’t ask me what it is that makes my mind accept those when it totally freezes when I see an un-domesticated version of the exact same thing.
This morning I was puttering around the house, getting ready for work and also getting Ken ready to head off to the dog show in Charleston, SC this weekend when I noticed that Taji’s cage was still covered. I headed over there to remove the cover as I was pretty sure Ken wouldn’t think to do it and then poor Taji would spend the day with his cage covered up which would ensure I had a grouchy bird when I got home from work.
I noticed something in the floor, but thought it was just a stick or bone that one of the dogs had dropped there.
When I got closer to it and actually SAW what it was, I quickly reversed course and went into paroxysms of revulsion and nausea — the thing should have had a “go here for term life insurance” sign on it or something because I for sure saw my life passing before my eyes!
It was a mouse.
Worse!
It was a dead mouse!
Even WORSE!
It was a chewed up, dead mouse — ewwwwwwwwww — grosssssssss
I’m still shaking just thinking about it.
Ken, all the while laughing his head off, disposed of the nasty thing while I was in the bathroom losing my breakfast.
So, now, does that mean I lost my not a girly-girl status?
Well, OK, as long as I don’t have to primp and wear frilly dresses and stuff…
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That’s awesome, I really mean, not awesome.
I think I might have freaked out as well. I cannot stand them. Not sure I ever will.
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hehehe. I am just as terrified of mice and rats. Unlike you I am also scared of snakes and spiders. I am also for some or other reason very wary of horses and cows, no idea why. One would not say that I was born and raised on a farm.
I am also not into frilly dresses, manicures and the like. Fortunately here the weather allows for jeans and t-shirts on most days all year long. I think I own more pairs of sneakers than what I do dresses.
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I hate to tell you, but pedicures aside, your reactions to mice means that you are, without a doubt, a girly girl! Welcome to our club!
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Tazdog — btw, I have a standard poodle I call tazdog
He’s a very cool guy; smart, obedient, brave. Anyway, glad to know I am not alone.
Lyndi — I didn’t grow up on a farm either, but I’ve always loved animals. I have a healthy respect for those larger, or more dangerous, but still love being around them. My Mom says all the time that I should have been a vet.
Patricia — well you just took all the red off my candy — thanks
I still refuse to wear ruffly dresses, so THERE.
I have cats, so I end up with plenty of dead mice and rats dropped by our kitchen door. My husband always freaks out, since he hates small rodents (he won’t even walk near the gerbil cages in the pet shop), and if I’m not around, he usually has to pick them up on a shovel and fling them into the bushes. Whereas I use a plastic bag to wrap round my hand, pick them up, check their colouring, sex, and what killed them, and then wrap them in the bag and drop them in the bin.
On the other hand, if a cranefly (what we call a daddy-long-legs in the UK) gets into the room I’m in… I squeal like a little girl!
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I admit being a male who show audacity in every aspect of life shakes up by lizards cockroaches rats….
Nice one..
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lol, i sympathize with ya. I refused to do the laundry for months and made the kids do it til we moved because the oldest kid saw a mouse in the laundry room. Those creepy things just terrify me.
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Catherine — my husband was very happy that one of the dogs apparently did it’s job for a change. We constantly battle mice here but that’s one of the few drawbacks to living in the middle of 99 acres of woods and fields.
Ankit — Glad my aversion is not limited to my sex
Nessa — Alas, my kids are grown and gone, so no passing on any of those chores. Hubby does not do laundry mores the pity.
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