…while sipping tea on your front porch on a fine Friday evening, you happen to glance over and catch a field mouse ever-so-nonchalantly cruising into your apartment via the very-slightly-ajar front door. You ever so subtly lean over to pick up your camera, which is your constant sidekick, but not subtly enough. Mouse sees you and books it back in the direction from whence he came. You quietly rise and tiptoe over to the alcove, following in its tiny footsteps, completely honed in to catch the slightest sound or movement amid the patter of raindrops….so very carefully, so very quietly…and then, out of nowhere,
you are pelted hard in the neck with a sharp, furry, half-pound grunting beanbag.
And you realize that you are in search of the source of months of rodent-caused destruction in your apartment with the help of an eager juvenile rodent.
Had you asked me a year ago what I thought I’d be doing on April 8, 2016, no, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have answered with this.
And yes, I jumped five feet and dropped my flashlight.