Then I'm going to tell you I have no pictures of the horrifying tale I'm about to tell you because:
- It was gruesome.
- I was throwing up.
- I couldn't even get near it without gagging.
But instead of one nice pile.. well.. let's tell the story first.
It was Friday morning. I was tired. It was approximately 7am when I heard Stumpy and Batman playing in my room. They are often stupid and loud and play with Matt's dirty laundry that he leaves on the floor so I think nothing of it.
At approximately 7:02, Olivia and Jackson appear in my doorway.
7:02 and 3 seconds Olivia starts screaming, "It's a mouse! A REAL MOUSE!" and both kids run to the couch, crying hysterically.
7:02 and 5 seconds, I get up, groggy, put my slippers on. Only to find that Stumpy was throwing a mouse around my room, not a balled up sock.
From there everything happened fast. First I saw what appeared to be the mouse's ass on my beige rug. Then I see copious amounts of mouse blood all over my freshly painted white closet doors. Then I see that there are organs on the door as well. Just like these:
Mouse parts are strewn about my bedroom floor. And I'm going to be honest- I fucking RAN to the kitchen sink and barfed for a solid minute. I'm not even kidding. I can't handle any kind of bodily fluids, guts, blood, I just can't.
I don't know how I'm even a mother, if we're being honest. It's a good thing Matt can deal with this because he's what I call Triple P cleanup (pee-poop-puke) and I swear one day he's getting a customized shirt.
But after puking I decided I had to assess the situation. I got Stumpy (who's face is covered in guts/blood) and Batman (who had mouse shit-I think-on his back feet) out of my room by pushing them with my foot and then closed the door.
I forgot to mention the absolute inhumane noises these cats were making. Seriously. It was this super bizarre low growl/hiss/meow thing and it was CREEPY.
Anyways. So once I had taken stock of the disgusting situation I was in, I decided there was no way in fuck I was going to clean that up. NO WAY. So obviously I call Matt. Several times. The first message was like, "Um, yeah. This is your wife. You need to take a break, an early lunch, SOMETHING and get your ass to the mother fucking house RIGHT NOW because we are in CRISIS MODE! CRISIS! THERE ARE BLOOD AND GUTS EVERYWHERE AND I THINK IT'S DEAD-OH MY GOD-*gag/cough* (kids screaming in background) and it's horrible. I CAN'T DO IT! So if you could just come home like right effing now for 5 minutes that'd be swell. JACKSON!!! SHUT THE..." *hang up call*
So then I sent a bunch of mayday texts to Matt telling him it's a big deal and I'm serious about it.
*He never responds because hey- his cell phone is in his vehicle.*
After about an hour I realize he isn't coming. I'm pissed off. I go into the crime scene because I need to get dressed. I decide I can't see the guts anymore, so I copied what you see on crime shows, got some kitchen towels and an oven mitt, put it over the guts so I couldn't see them. I got dressed and we got the hell out of the house because mouse guts smell after awhile.
I didn't come home until 3:30 and only after I got a text saying "safe to come home now" from Matt. He left work a half hour early to deal with the situation. And then told me I'm an absolute pussy. Um hi, I already know that. And he did too. I made it plain as day that I don't do gross cleanup. I just don't and won't. EVER.
The bad part, while he did get it all cleaned up, is that there is a stain on my closet door from what we believe are maybe the kidneys? Of course I can't really testify to that because I was pretty much throwing up in my own hand when I saw it, but if I had to guess it looked like what I think a kidney maybe would. So obviously we're painting the door. Again.
Meanwhile, Stumpy and Batman are walking around here like King Shits and attacking and subsequently killing ever dustball that goes by like absolute badasses.
And I still gag thinking about it.