Some lessons are learned the hard way.
You would think, that on this day, the day that Chloe's dream of having horses came true, that the title and topic of this post would be well... About that. But that's not the case. No. Not the case, at all.
Our story starts when one of the helpers bringing the horses asked the simple and innocent question... Can I use your bathroom?
Sure! No problem!
And Chloe led the way. Dear, sweet Chloe. Who has not mastered the art of closing doors.
Ahem.
About an hour later, I discovered the door was wide open. And had been for at least an hour. But it wasn't until oh.... about 9 hours after that, that it was discovered that Mr. Chipmunk had checked in for the day. Let's try not to think about how many times a chipmunk does bathroom related business in a 9 hour period.
I was putting a very weepy, very tired Chloe to bed. We were trying to deal with the fact that her suitcase from her overnight at grandma's last night was still, unfortunately in grandma's backseat. 25 minutes from here. With her blankie in it... I was just about to head out of the room, fingers crossed, prayerfully hoping she was tired enough to fall asleep without it. When I heard and saw something strange... Was it a ball rolling into her room? Who would be rolling a ball into her room? I turned and there he was. For a hot second. And then he was gone.
"BABE!!!!! Get down here! There's a chipmunk down here!" I hollered up the stairs.
He came thundering down. "WHAT?!?!"
"There's a chipmunk in down here."
"In Chloe's room?" He asked.
"Nope. I don't know where he is now. He went that-a-way." I explained.
I only wish that the next 30 minutes (give or take) could have been recorded. Oh, what a treasure of comedic entertainment that would be. There was laughing. There was chasing. There was squealing. It was like the squirrel scene from Christmas Vacation. Minus the Santa hat.
We had him cornered in my closet. Frank was on his knees with his head on the ground looking under the dresser. "It's going to end up on my head. Just like in Christmas Vacation." He said. "Yes, if you leave your head there, you're probably right. At least you got a tetanus shot the other day!" I said. Always looking on the bright side, I am. "Yeah, but I didn't get a rabies shot."
"Oh, right."
Chloe was in her room, pretty mad because I had shut the door when I left. I went back in to check on her, and always the comedian, said: "Well, just when you think leaving your blanket in Grandma's car is your biggest problem, next thing you know there's a chipmunk in your room!" Despite her best efforts not to, she smiled.
Back to check on dad and the chipmunk.
By this point he had escaped the first closet and was currently cornered in a different closet, this one big enough that I could block off the entrance trapping Frank in there with the chipmunk. And his weapon of choice. A towel. "What are you going to do with the towel?" I ask, laughing. "I'm going to catch him and take him outside. I thought I had him in there (the bedroom closet.) but he's FAST!"
Don't I know it. Especially after he jumped about a foot in the air (the chipmunk, not the husband) and cleared the barricade. That I was CERTAIN was going to contain him.
Back to the bedroom.
"Why didn't we close that door and block the space under it?!?!?" I bemoaned.
In my defense... There's a lot to think about whilst chasing a chipmunk through the house. Even the smartest of people can't think of everything.
This time in the bedroom, he was hiding under the crib. (Found the missing pacifer! Score!) Then he got into the baseboard heater. This was when I dissolved into a fit of giggles. At one point he ran right over my feet. RIGHT OVER MY FEET!!!!!!!!!! I squealed. More fits of giggles. He actually seemed to be showing himself out as he ran to the door and dove at the window. Drat! If only it had been open! So then we open the door and try to chase him that way. But of course he won't go that way once the door is open.
Except he did. Eventually. After a trip to the office and back to the bedroom.
Whew. That was a hoot!
Staying off of the show Hoarders is no longer my biggest motivation for getting my basement neat and tidy. You don't realize how many hiding places you are creating with all manner of totes and tubes of clothing strewn all about the living room and office. Getting that mess organized is now #2 on my to do list.
Right after teaching my girl to CLOSE the door.
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