Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse… it was DEAD!

We spent Christmas Eve with the Webmaster’s family. This was a complicated effort, because Christmas Eve was a Sunday and we had a Christmas service at church in the morning. So we packed up the minivan and left immediately after church for scenic Morton, Washington, just 30 miles away from Mount Rainier. The kids napped in the car on the 2 and a half hour drive down, and woke up ready for Christmas presents.

The big event of the evening was going up to the Webmaster’s grandmother’s old house for the big party with aunts, uncles, cousins and his frail 92 year old grandmother. She no longer lives in the house because of her health, but the Webmaster’s mother, aunts, and cousin check on it frequently. But it’s an older house, built by the Webmaster’s late grandfather, on their Christmas tree farm in the middle of the woods. My mother-in-law assured me that they had cleaned it up well in preparation for the party.

We hadn’t seen some of the Webmaster’s cousins since Thanksgiving 2005, so they had the chance to see how much the kids had grown, and be amused by their antics. I had just gotten done telling them how Tad just gets into everything and always finds things we don’t want him to, when I was following him around to make sure he stayed out of trouble. We were coming though a side door when I saw something dark on the floor. As Tad picked it up, I realized what it was.

It was a dead, dried up and desiccated mouse.

I yelled loudly as my father-in-law came running, and I shook it out of Tad’s hand (ewwww). My FIL picked it up by its dried tail and disposed of it, while I marched Tad straight to the bathroom to wash his hands. “Tad just found a DEAD MOUSE!” I shrieked to everyone. They all died laughing. My poor MIL was beside herself. “I thought the house was clean – I thought we’d gotten everything!”

The dead mouse story is now a Christmas legend.

When I told my mother this story, she said, “You know, there really might be something to your theory after all.”

I have long asserted that if you gave me 2000 toddlers with Ane and Tad’s energy, and Tad’s ability to find things that he shouldn’t, put GPS locaters on all 2000 kids and turn them loose in the mountains of Pakistan, I would have Osama bin Laden for you in 48 hours. I’m betting even he can’t hide from an inquisitive toddler.

After the dead mouse, the fly swatter seemed like a more attractive toy, don’t you think?

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