Dead Mouse Mayhem

Today my children learned about the transient nature of life. And about the correct way to dispose of a mouse carcass.

Or not.

I also discovered that I am an insane softie. Or a scaredy cat. Not sure which. Allow me to explain. 

See, when we came down to the play room after nap today, we found this little bugger waiting for us. 

Now I hate dead stuff. It's just not my thing. 

But I knew I had to Mom Up and find a graceful way "deal with the situation" before Bennett could poke it with a toy or Sterling could scoop it up and slip it into her purse. 

I found myself a handy little bucket and decided that it would officially be my "dead mouse handler". 

Armed with the bucket and a HUGE handful of toilet paper, I crept towards the little bugger. In the back of my mind, I was terrified that it might suddenly spring back to life and rush at me with its mousy little jaws snapping in fury. As little as I wanted to go near the mouse, my two little helpers were desperate to get at it. They both did their best to dodge around me while I played defense with my bucket and worked up the courage to tackle the mouse.

After a few gentle nudges to make certain it was dead, I carefully shimmied it into the bucket. It landed with a hollow thunk. 

Awesome! Yay for me! I did it! With a mental pat on the back I straightened up, a part of me secretly expecting a round of applause from the invisible audience. 

Then I realized. Oh shit, now what do I do with it???

I considered chucking it out into the woods, but that didn't seem right. I had no idea how it had died, but if it was from poison, I didn't want to kill something else in the process. I thought about popping into the garbage, but then I realized it would likely start to smell before the garbage pick up on Monday. 

And so the only viable option I could think of was to flush it. It works for goldfish, right?

Not incredibly dignified, no, but I couldn't think of anything better. 

So I slid its furry little body into the toilet and flushed. 

The little mouse went several times around the bowl, floating merrily along the top. The bowl emptied, the mouse remained. 

Crap. 

I flushed again, this time pressing down on the flusher handle (that's a technical term) with extra vigor and purpose. 

Again, the mouse floated. 

Awesome. 

Stumped, I piled some toilet paper on top, hoping that would help weight it down. 

It didn't. 

In an act of desperation, I piled copious amounts of toilet paper on top until the whole mass sank, THEN I flushed. 

It looked like this was going to be the perfect solution… until the toilet chugged hollowly in that classic sign of a clog. 

Oh crap! 

With visions of reaching into the bowl up to my shoulder to fish out a soggy mouse carcass, I flushed a final time. 

The bowl filled. Kept filling. Reached that point where it almost overflowed... and then suddenly flushed. 

I've never had such a memorable toilet flush in my life. Actually, I have, but never in an instance involving a mouse carcass.

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