In my last post, I wrote about the squirrel in our house, and the displacement of half our clothes. Act One stopped just as the toddler started vomiting.
You don’t need to have experience with a sick toddler to know what that night looked like. We went through all his sheets, multiple outfits — his and mine — and nearly every towel and rag in the house. Let us remember for a moment that we are both minor-league hippies and former large dog owners. That’s an impressive amount of towels and rags.
The following day, the toddler was a miserable sack of pathetic-hood. He was curled on me like a baby monkey. This day was going to be about cuddling. Maybe eating a cracker.
The Swedelock had cranked through a load of laundry in the middle of the night. I had five more full, disgusting loads to go. And then the power went out. For five hours.
Fortunately this was a planned outage; I knew about it in advance. But this was not the day I wanted to lose the ability to watch back-to-back-to-back-to-back Thomas the Tank Engine videos.
I tossed the kid in the stroller and spent the morning wandering the neighborhood and not touching anything.
In the afternoon, I cuddled with Captain Misery in his bed until he fell asleep. When he passed out, I went downstairs to grab some water. That’s when I learned that squirrels are attracted to (but do not eat) peanut butter substitutes. The rejected pieces of my son’s lunch were knocked to the dining room floor. And there were some familiar claw marks on my table.
That’s right. Squirrel #2. This time, upstairs.
I texted an update to the Swedelock. I left a message at a pest control place. I stopped to itch a twitching eye. I checked on the kid, and left his room to go close all the doors (gotta keep the squirrels out, you know).
And then came the squirrel bounding down the hall toward me.
He dashed into our spare bedroom. You know the one with the new bed? I shut that door and ran back to the kid’s room. I had reached a limit. I had no shame. My husband would be called home from work.
Good man that he is, he came straight to the rescue. Using a combination of his aforementioned Squirrel Whisperer Powers and some crazy squirrel barrier, the Swedelock shooed the squirrel downstairs and out the door. I remained in the toddler’s room for all of this.
That evening was a flurry of bleaching and toddler cuddling. We also set a borrowed squirrel trap in the basement. Thank goodness the next day would be Friday.
We went to bed hoping for no Act Three.