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The Great Mouse Incident

Some years ago, I was a counselor of about five 6 year olds. They were a rowdy group of city-kids and I had to keep a tight rein on them to keep quiet. But this one night, there was no stopping their screams—we had seen a mouse (all of us, unlike Janet).


I remembered being twelve at my first personal mouse encounter back in my home in Queens. I was in the kitchen grabbing a snack when the little critter skittered on the tiles and ran towards the stove but to me it looked like it was going for my feet. I hopped up on a chair and with a shrill pre-pubescent voice I proceeded to scream. I still remember the look on my father’s face after he burst into the kitchen after stumbling down the stairs in a frantic run; a mix of barely contained laughter and nausea at his screeching first-born.

So when we saw the mouse in the cabin that memory forced me to Man up: I quickly came to my campers’ rescue. I grabbed the broom from outside the cabin then proceeded to chase the foul rodent and pummel it, repeatedly, until I was sure it was dead.

In my blind violence I didn’t notice the silence of the campers (and the rest of the week they would be uncharacteristically obedient) but I did notice that the mouse wasn’t running anymore.

I slowly raised the broom to investigate the victim of my wrath as the campers quietly, somberly, gathered ‘round. There, on the dusty cabin floor was the dead mouse. Attached to her broken body were 5 tiny baby mice—all dead.

My five campers burst into tears.

4 Responses to “The Great Mouse Incident”

  1. MCF Says:

    That’s heartbreaking; I think I’m about to burst into tears. :(

  2. Rey Says:

    Feel My Wrath.

  3. ThirstyDavid Says:

    How very efficient of you. You’ll get no rebuke from me.

  4. b13 Says:

    You are just cruel :(
    I on the other hand took a mouse on a glue trap (back when I was a stock-boy) and ran it under warm water (making sure not to drown it) to set it free.

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