funny mouse storygreenspun.com : LUSENET : Countryside : One Thread
One day last week we were all in the livingroom, when out from under the chest of drawers that holds the T.V.,staggers a mouse!! He stagers out and falls over in the middle of the floor!! WE all were looking at him, and he didn't move, my husband went and got some TP and picked the mouse up by the tail and trew him outside for the cats to get. I figured that the cats had gotten him and he had gotten away from them and had come inside where it is warm. Well later on that evening My eldest daughter calls and says" You didn't tell me we had mice, one got into my christmas chocolate and ate quite a bit." We laughed ourselves silly thinking about this mouse eating so much chocolate that it made itself drunk, or maybe even sick with it, I know it is deadly to dogs. I thought you all would enjoy that one.
-- Susam n' Emily in tn. (firstname.lastname@example.org), January 14, 2002
That is SO FUNNY..... Hee hee. I have a funny one too. My husband and son were up at the back of the property chopping firewood that we had cut down last year. There were several mice in the woodpile and as they ran out, our dog killed them. However, this one ran over by my son's shoe (he is 17) and then my husband said it just disappeared. Well, one look at our son's face told him right where it was. It had run up his pant leg. He grabbed it just above the knee and just held it. He asked his dad what he should do. So, my husband held the mouse and Joshua had to take his pants off. I am glad it was him and not me!!!
-- Marci (TheBlubaughs@amazinggrazefarm.com), January 14, 2002.
I pulled my boots on to take the dogs out. Must have left a sock in one and there was something soft and squisy in toe of one. Oh well, took care of the dogs, came back in, pulled off boots, reached in to pull out sock. Fuzzy little critter instead. Poor little thing. I hope he was dead before I squished him into the boot toe with my foot.
-- Susan in Northern Michigan (email@example.com), January 14, 2002.
My older brother always put on a tough show for everyone, even beat me up a few hundred times for his friends enjoyment. Oh how he liked to let all his little brothers and sisters know what cowards they were and how brave he was. One night we got to see how brave he was when my mother sent him into her bedroom to get something.He got something all right, he got the scare of his life. His scream was a much higher pitch than any girls I have ever known. He screamed and screamed in such an ear piercing scream that I thought maybe someone had broke in and was killing him. Everyone in the house ran to my mothers bedroom. When we turned on the light there was my brother still screaming and crying with a mouse on the floor seside him. What happened was my brother went into the bedroom (in the dark) and felt something going up his leg and it was scratching him as it went higher and higher. He beat me up again for laughing but oh how that laugh was worth getting beat up. I always teased him, telling him I don't know why it would go up his leg, nothing there anyway.
-- george (firstname.lastname@example.org), January 14, 2002.
SEE George! I told you there were stories in there! I love it!
-- Sandie in Maine (email@example.com), January 14, 2002.
Sandie, Things were wild in my house so many stories to tell. My family always ask me to tell them about when I was a kid since I tend to remember almost everything about growing up. My brother has pestered me for years to write a book about it and so I am. I am almost to page 350 and my family is excited they want to get there hands on it bad.
Anyway another mouse story.
When I was six my parents decided to get a divorce. I didn't know what a divorce was but I do know I was excited. And to this day am glad that they did divorce. Anyway another mouse story.
When my parents seperated my mother along with us seven (at the time) kids moved down the street only about a mile from the house we lived in most of my six years. Times were tough, no money for utilities and even less for food. At that time in my life anything sweet was a treasure. There were many days when all we had for food was canned milk mixed with water and toast or stewed tomatoes. One night we got a real treat which was peanut butter and marshmello sandwiches. After making all the sandwiches there was only scrapings left in the marshmello jar. My mother told me that since I had been good and another one of my brothers or sisters got to clean the jar the last time I could clean this jar but I would have to wait until morning. I looked at that jar several times that night. I would take the lid off and look in to see how much of a treat I would have the next day. My mother told us to go to bed when it got dark because we did not have electricity to stay up and do anything else. At sometime during the night us boys were awoken by something banging around in the kitchen. We acted brave but were scared to death as we got up and walked to the dark kitchen. Something made me want to find my way to the marshmello jar to make sure it was still there. I think I must have thought one of my siblings was trying to steal my goods. In the darkness I felt the counter to see if my treat was still there, it was gone. My older brother fumbled around the counter top for a flashlight and was lucky to find it. Huh huh someone was after my treat, there on the floor was my marshmello jar. I picked it up off the floor ready to blame someone when all of a sudden something jumped out. I threw the jar to the floor and screamed (Yes, like a girl, Hey I was only six). Us boys ran all around afraid that whatever it was would bite our feet. My brother finally decided the bright thing to do was look for what ever it was that jumped out of the jar. One of us saw a flash go through the doorway into the boys bedroom, us three boys ran after it. All the commotion woke our mother up. She yelled out, "You boys get to bed, George you stay away from that jar until tommorrow." I said that something else was in it. My older brother Jim spotted the culprit, it was a mouse. The mouse ran all around the house and us three boys were right on its heals. Actully the mouse was hopping and we decided that it was a kangaroo mouse from Australia so, we had to catch it to take to school to show our friends. The mouse hopped behind a sheet of sheetrock that was leaning against the wall. Each of us boys told the other two to reach in and grab it but none of us would. Of course the whole time our understanding mother was yelling for us to go back to bed.Eventually we gave up and decide to wait until the morning to find the kangaroo mouse. The very first thing we woke up in the morning we started our search. Our mother thought we were so funny searching all through the house looking for the mouse but we just had to have that rare kangaroo mouse to take to school to show our friends. After a while our mother said she would move the sheetrock that was against the wall. Sure enough there was the mouse as dead as a doornail. I was so upset that it had died because it would have been so much neater to take a live kangaroo mouse to school than a dead mouse. Our mother laughed so hard when we complained about the kangaroo mouse being dead. She explained that it wasn't a rare kangaroo mouse but that it was a normal mouse whos hind legs were stuck together by the marshmello. Oh well that was that I had a marshmellow jar to clean out.
-- george (firstname.lastname@example.org), January 14, 2002.
George, Those stories are wonderful!!!!! Got any others to tell?
-- clove (clovis97@Yahoo.com), January 15, 2002.
As a kid, and even sometimes as an adult, I used to get the creeps at granny's house at night - probably all that settling and dark corners. Anyway, I was sleeping in the livingroom on the foldout bed one night and thought I heard something in the kitchen (next room over). It sounded like Morse Code. I was terrified to even turn over and see what it might be (always assumed a ghost would get me). It didn't sound like any other natural kitchen noise, too metallalic - like real Morse on a telegraph. Eventually, the suspense was too much and I turned ont he light, but of course all ghosts disappear in the light, and sure enough, there was nothing there. I looked the whole kitchen over top to bottom, but nada.
Went back to bed, and it wasn't 10 minutes before the ghost started tapping out his eerie Morse Code again. Finally got up the nerve to go see what it was without turning on a light - by this time I was getting tired and cranky from interrupted sleep. Finally did find the culprit - a mouse scrounging the last bits of something out of a spoon which had been left out, bowl up, on the counter. Everytime he'd take a nibble the handle would pop up and down on the counter and tap out a message!
-- Soni (email@example.com), January 15, 2002.
Can you stand another mouse story? My husband and I were visiting relatives in MO, they lived in an extremely small town. We attended worship services at a little country church that Sun. morning.Right in the middle ofthe preaching a small mouse hopped out of a hole in the wall right beside the preacher.Apparently the mouse didn't notice at first there were people there, just was haveing a good time hopping around doing little dances, being a little mouse.suddenly it saw us all looking at it, jumped straight up in the air and came down in a belly flop. Then it popped back through it's hole a fast as it could. the preacher never knew it was there.
-- VickiP. (firstname.lastname@example.org), January 15, 2002.
Just one more that I can think of right now about mice. lol
After my parents divorced my mother met a new man and got married (why she married the bum i'll never know) We moved from my small town of Mapleton, Maine to Washington, Maine. We moved into a vacant motel. There were plenty of these big empty motels around so I am thinking at one time this town had a booming industry but, by the time we got there the town was almost like a ghost town.
The one thing I remember about this place was that it was haunted (to us kids anyway). We just knew that somewher in the old motel there were secret passages where all the devils children lived and they were up to no good. We even found a box in the very last room that had sketches of nothing but the devil.We only used about four of the thirteen bedrooms in the ex-motel.
My little brother Bobby was a little mama's boy. What he was doing sleeping in his own bed at five was beyond me since I thought for sure he would be sleeping with our mother until he was at least how old I was which was six and three quarters to seven (the quarters and halves were important to us kids, not only in age but also in height). At this age I figured I had just about seen all there was to see in that whole world of Maine.
Anyway, my little brother Bobby went into a seperate bedroom from the rest of us boys which now seems odd since us boys not only shared the same bedroom but also the same bed. Yes, it is true that during the winter when the bedroom was really cold you do pray that someone pees to bed to warm you up but, once they pee you don't move or you end up in cold pee and someone else takes your warm spot. So, here was me and my older brother Little Jim (named after our father, except Dad was big Jim)in our bed and Bobby was in the another bedroom right next door to where he really should have been. I am guessing that it was about ten p.m. when Bobby started screaming (yes, he also was screaming like a little girl. I guess it runs in the family with us boys). I don't know how I hear what I heard, maybe because he woke me up from a deep sleep but I thought he was screaming something about a snake after him. Once I became more awake and everyone was at his side to protect him he told us what he had seen.
Now, my brother Bobby is fourty-years-old but he still sticks to this story (if he weren't only five and three quarters and a few days old I would have said he was smoking some of that stuff we'd been warned about that the hippies all smoked but I do not believe we knew anyone who smoked it so that was out).He said and still says, "There was a mother rat, a father rat and they were all dressed up like they were going to church. The mother rat held a basket full of babies all dressed up too. The father rat was holding the mother rat by the arm and led the way as they all walked into the closet. When they just got inside the closet they all turned around and waved to Bobby and closed the closet door." Now I ask what was that five year old on?
-- george (email@example.com), January 15, 2002.
Here's my funny mouse story: As children we laid in front of the tv every Sat. night and watched our favorite programs. It had been snowing and the house was chilly. The program we were watching had been a "speical" and had run for two hours instead of 30 minutes. As we lay on the floor a small mouse came from under the tv, stood up on his back legs and 'chatted'. One of my sisters pointed her finger at him in disbeleif--he ran back under the tv. We laughed and started back watching tv ,about 20min. later, he did it again-we all pointed this time and again he ran under the tv. We knew if we caused a 'stink' about the mouse our dad would have sent us to bed so we didn't say anything just laughed. It happened 2 more times and by this time we could not control our laughter! He looked just like he was telling us "to turn the tv off and go to bed--it was way past our bed time". It's been 40 years and I still think of that little mouse every time I see on little gray mouse!!!
-- Debbie T in N.C. (firstname.lastname@example.org), January 15, 2002.
George, I have to get a copy of that book!
(btw I am having no luck e-mailing you back)
-- Sandie in Maine (email@example.com), January 15, 2002.
George, Sign me up for a copy of your book, too! I have got to read it!
-- clovis (clovis97@Yahoo.com), January 16, 2002.
George, me three! I come from a big family, too, and sure wish I could remember it all so well! I want to buy your book. Is the older brother still bashing you? If so, he gets no book, ok?
-- Debbie in Mo (firstname.lastname@example.org), January 16, 2002.
O.K. George, I have been back to this posting 4 times reading your Marshmallow Mouse story! You MUST submit this to a magazine somewhere! Is it o.k. if I copy it if I promise never, ever to print it without your name attached? Hmmmmn?
-- Sandie in Maine (email@example.com), January 16, 2002.
Oh but don't use that as a title, it gives away the story, how about "The Maine Made Mouse", or perhaps The Mystery of the Jumping Mouse"?
-- Sandie in Maine (firstname.lastname@example.org), January 16, 2002.
Debbie, no the older brother is not still bashing me. I'd probably imitate his scream for his friends :-)
Oh the stories I have in this noggin of mine.
A little teaser here. Crawling inside a dead cow. Dog that loved to play king of the mountain (my sister wishes I couldn't remember this one and wishes she could remember it) Top Bear (this is a bit weird) Uncle Jim in casket (bad boys)Pig in the house (someone got hurt)Old man Eaton, his dog and a loaf of bread. Playing with matches in barn full of animals. George is on fire (this was bad) Remember this is only a teaser. Oh what fun we had.
I will clue you in a little bit about my growing up.
My parents did what kids shouldn't so had to get married. My mother had first at 16 years old. I am the second child I was born when my mother was 17 and dad was 20. Together my parents had 7 kids.My mther had 7 kids by the age of 22. Divorce. Remarried new brothers and sisters arrive with marriage also a GREAT step mother. Mother remarries has 3 more kids. Mother divorces. Remarries has another baby which she decideds to call it quits and gets spayed as I like to tell her, she was 35 years old. Father and step mother have a daughter together. all total there are how many? I can't remember. Original 7 then 4 step added then 3 more born then 1 more then another 1 = oh yeah 16 kids and it was a blast with really funny stories but I promised I would never tell anything that I thought they would not approve of (to bad, that's where the juicy stuff is) Maybe I will write it and switch names around :-) no I would't.
Glad you have enjoyed the stories.
-- george (email@example.com), January 16, 2002.
Susam and Emily.
I am sorry that I took over your thread. I hope that you are not upset. It was your story that clicked my memory :-) George
-- george (firstname.lastname@example.org), January 16, 2002.