Uncle Mo’s mouse

by Katie on October 21, 2015

I feel like it’s well established now that we have a fierce little OCD dictator running loose in our house in the form of our two-year-old daughter. We are in so much trouble. But we love it.

Let me clarify:  We do not love it when it’s past bedtime and there are strict demands on the placement of stuffed animals, the position of a blanket (and its color), where we can stand to say bedtime prayers (not even kidding on this one), which book must be read first and last, and so on.  But when it’s our bedtime and we get to share little snippets of all these crazy things with the parent who missed some of them? That’s good stuff right there.

So, anyway, our approaching-three-year-old tends to become a little obsessed with things. And has a memory retention I can only envy. Back this summer (you know, when it was 115 degrees instead of a mere, crisp, fall 99 degrees), on a long drive from Denver to Crested Butte, CO, for her DeDa’s wedding, Leyton overheard a phone conversation my mom was having with my oldest baby brother about a mouse he found in his house. (Because anytime an almost 22-year-old male, however independently living he might be 12 hours from home, encounters a problem? He calls his mama. At least in our family.)

And y’all. Let me just say that I hope my brother has had better luck getting rid of that mouse than we have. Because anytime anything about our family or a rodent comes up within earshot of our daughter? “Uncle Mo has a mouse in his house.” Like a broken record. On repeat. For two months now.

Leyton recently enjoyed the best five days of her young life when all four of her cousins packed into our house for a visit. Brandon described that time of her life as “true bliss”. But now, she thinks they’re coming back every other day. I hate to inform her that her aunt Calli isn’t quite crazy enough to take on that adventure (flying solo with four kids, recently-turned-5 and under) on a regular basis. She kind of deserves a badge of honor for the first trip. [Aside:  I hope I am able to record some stories from that visit here in the not-too-distant future. Let’s just say the two two-year-olds made us all very thankful we did not have twins.]

So anyway, just two nights ago, we were in the car, and after talking about her cousins visiting, she began listing every.single.person in our family. All of her cousins, her grandparents, then “Uncle Mason, Uncle Mo, and His Mouse. Because Uncle Mo has a mouse in his house. And mouses are yuck!”

Uncle Mo, could you please give us a call and let Leyton know you no longer have a mouse in your house? Because she’s still very concerned about it. And we’re a bit concerned about her mental health if she keeps obsessing over this mouse in your house.

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