Frostwritten

Back in my post-college era, while I was still living at home with my parents, we had a freak snowstorm in the beginning of March. It snowed about a foot or so, and I nearly didn’t make it home from work. I made it into our neighborhood, but my car got stuck on a different street. The same thing happened to my dad. But at least we got into the vicinity of our house.

Once the snow tapered off, it was dark outside, but the moon was bright against the snow, and we decided to venture out to try and get our cars back onto our street. I needed to dig out my winter accessories, so I scrounged up a hat, gloves, and scarf, and located my snow boots in the downstairs closet. But I felt… mistrustful. I had this gnawing sensation in my gut that something was amiss, although I didn’t know what. The peculiar feeling made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

So, instead of putting my boots on, I asked my mom to put her hands in them to make sure there weren’t any spiders or anything in them. Yes, I was in my twenties and shouldn’t have been asking my mother to do that. But I am also a massive wimp. And my mom is a badass. So there’s that.

To her credit, she said “I’m not going to do that.” Which is fair.

So, I hesitantly put one foot into a boot and met with some minor resistance, and I promptly freaked out. I might have screamed. There was definitely something in there, and, like a big baby, I refused to try again until my mom stuck her hands in. I insisted that there was something in them. Begrudgingly, she reached into my boot… and she pulled something out.

We both stared at the small object in her palm for a moment. In the dim light of our downstairs hallway, it was difficult to tell what it was, until I saw the tail.

It was a dead mouse.

My mom said, “Oh!” and immediately dropped it on the ground. I screamed and ran up the stairs. I actually am okay with mice (much more so than bugs/arachnids) but the thought that my foot had touched a poor, tiny little mouse carcass, who had probably crawled into my boot for warmth too late and froze to death, was too much for me.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. Well, two lessons.

1.) Always trust your gut.

2.) Make sure someone puts their hands in your boots to check for interlopers, or vermin bodies.