One time when I was a kid I woke up and found something crawling on me. It was big and had a lot of legs.
I turned around and walked out of the room. I'm visiting my dad, and for some reason he's got a ton of **** on the top bunk. The mouse escaped into it when I turned on the lights. It's the worst kind of situation. A cat? A dog?
One time I was awoken by some rustling coming underneath my back. When I got up and switched on the light a gray blur was moving around on my bed. Being tired and without a second thought I swatted the thing clear across my room where it landed into the top drawer of my dresser. I don't remember why I left it open that night, but again without a second thought I closed the drawer, laid back down, and then I went back to sleep. I of course had to do something about a mouse being trapped in my top drawer later on, but that's a non interesting tale involving a stick...
When I worked at summer camp that one year, every group had a little box of craft supplies (paper, crayons, string, etc.) for the kids to have if it was raining or whatever. We kept them in with our stuff in the staff tents. One week we kept hearing a scratching around the tent. At first, we ignored it because, hey, we're outside. But it kept happening, and it kept coming from the area where we kept our stuff. We looked, but we didn't see anything. One evening, I was alone in the tent when I heard again the mysterious scratching noise, and then a mouse ran from one end of the tent to the other. So I scared it off and went once again to investigate. Turns out there were baby mice in the craft box. I freaked out and dropped the box and I think I accidentally killed the babies and I felt kinda bad about it, but at the same time I was running out of the tent and out to where everyone else was so idk.
Alright, too scared to get it out of there. Guess I have a new bunk buddy now. He has been named Tom.
One of the houses my fam lived in when I was little had mice. I remember I found one in my closet once. On the night my little sister was born, I remember sitting on the couch and watching mice run around in the kitchen. We got a cat to take care of them, and the cat just played with them. She would pick them up with her mouth and throw them up in the air and catch them on the way down. They would freak out, play dead (or simply go into shock) and she would get bored and leave them. My sister stepped on one once.
