Mouse 1, Ashley 0

Tonight we were cleaning out our badly neglected garage prior to trash day tomorrow. I was carrying out an old planter that has held the same spot for nearly 5 years. After setting the planter down at the embarrassingly over full curb I felt a bug bite on my back. I reached back and it was a MOUSE under my shirt. I almost stripped right there but I was: 1) outside on my driveway and neighbors were out too and 2) we had one of my husband's friends there helping us with this project.

I sprinted inside while simultaneously grabbing the mouse (which felt like a rat) and twisting it so my shirt "trapped" it in place. The second I got inside I ripped my shirt off and threw it in a nearby Tar.get bag and tied it. My heart was pounding out of my chest. After putting on a new, fresh, mouse-less shirt I took the bag to the trash and told my husband and friend the horrific happenings. What does my sympathetic husband do? OPENS the bag to check out the rodent. It scurries off unharmed. My husband, straight faced, turns to me and says "It's just like a little guinea pig, I don't know what the big deal is." 

Please, Lord, may this never happen to me or anyone I know ever. EVER. I hate mice and I'm forever traumatized. Bleh.

Just re-telling this story, I feel a bit like this: