Wednesday, April 05, 2006

After posting about the mouse, my friend suggested I tell ya all about the 'creature'.
Yep, there is a mutant thing living in one of the barns. And nope, I don't live by any nuclear power plants or dump sites, (that I know of). Soooo, where did this thing come from? your guess is as good as mine.
A few years ago, I noticed this thing moving about in the shadows. I would back away slowly and then run like hell once I was out of the barn. Yeah, yeah, such a hard ass.
Well, everyone I asked about what it could be, or described what it looked like, people would just look at me as if I had included a hit of acid with my oatmeal. (I hadn't, I swear.) Ok, now imagine...a helpless little, hairless, grayish little mole. Right? now nuke him, stretch him and add about twenty five pounds...TADA...you've got my mutant mole.
Now, she's not just any old mutant, this one has an attitude. Ok, granted, I haven't met many other mutants, but this one just seems to be very attitudie to me.

So, began our tenitive relationship with each other. I would whistle, or talk loudly when I was anywhere near the barn. She would hiss and glare at me. I swear she would twitch and had one slanted eye on the side of her head that twitched towards her shoulder. A psycho mutant mole. hmmm.
Well, one day it was bound to happen. ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. I sent my precious baby boy...stop laughing, he is too my precious baby boy, so what if he is taller than me now. Anyhow, I sent him to talk out the garbage, again...stopping laughing, he does too actually know where the garbage cans are. Never uses them, but he does know where they are. So, he goes out towards the barn and I hear and see him screaming this little girl shriek. Next thing I see is him running for his very life towards me, screaming, flailing his arms and running as if satan himself was poking him with his pitchfork. I grabbed the broom. Yep, a good broom can too protect your progengy from just about anything, mutant mole creatures included. I saw the very irate creature running after my son, hissing, spitting and just making a fuss like nothing I've ever seen before.
I honestly can't say what came over me, a calmness, a deep quiet, something jedi even. I stood my ground, broom at the ready. I waited in slow motion as my child streaked past towards the back door. I raised the broom, batt like, and I swung. It was like Robert Redford in that baseball movie. I saw the broom swing, I saw it connect with the moles jar, I watched in slow motion as its head SLOWLY swung backwards. Its jaws slowly opened. And then it fell back on its ass. I stood shocked. I suddenly thought what a bad idea this all was. Now, its gonna get up, kick my ass because it's really pissed off now. But, it didn't. It watched me, twitchy like. (both of us were indeed twitching) And she got up and slowly walked back towards the barn, now and then she would look over her shoulder back at me, grumbling all the while, mumbling under her breath, plotting her revenge no doubt.

For the rest of that summer she would just hiss and grumble when are paths crossed. She would still glare at me when she came out and walked past the house. I would grumble that I still had that broom if she ever wanted a rematch. She would still bitch at me, but our uneasy truce has lasted for a long while.
I see that she indeed has offspring of her own, now. Great, more asses to kick.

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