Mouse!

Mozart's thing these days is Stuart Little - well, Elmo and Stuart Little.  It could be worse, really.  I think it's a cute video.  And it's a good thing 'cuz over the past week we must have watched it at least 15 times. I always strove to be one of those moms whose kids don't know what t.v. is.  And, really, I still do.  But that has gone by the wayside because, what can I say, if it affords a Mama a bit of worry-free rest, it's worth its weight in gold. 

So along with this new-found obsession of his, he has taken to saying, "Mas!  Mas! Mas!"  Somewhat constantly.  For some time, I wondered where he learned the Spanish word for more.  The context always seemed to fit.  But then I realized it was really "Mouse!" that he was saying.  He's eating and he says, mas.  He's playing with his toys and he says, mas.  He looks in my belly button, and you guessed it, he says, mas.  In the dryer, mas.  In his shoe basket, mas.  Down his pants, mas (he's a boy, what can I say).  In the toilet, mas.  Yeah, you get the picture. 

So this morning we are going through the usual routine.  Kind of, for I went to work for the first time in a week today, and was doing the routine myself as the Wife is now down with this terrible flu.  As I'm getting Mozart ready he has a toy truck and is talking about mouse this and mouse that and can we watch mouse, etc, etc.  I am in kind of a hurried daze as I'm trying to dress him and make myself look presentable. 

I manage to get him fully outfitted and put him down, making my way into this odd little room we call the dressing room (it contains several sets of drawers, a bureau, an open wardrobe and a vanity) to, well, get dressed.  Mozart tags along behind me and I am wishing he would stop asking to watch mouse and just play with his toys.  As I am putting the iron away, I note that he suddenly looks very interested in his toys that are strewn about as he toddles over to them saying, "Mas!" 

I let out a sigh of relief, and follow this by an immediate shriek.  Mozart has bent over and is holding in both of his chubby little hands A MOUSE!  And I don't mean a toy mouse here folks, no, this is no Stuart Little, this is a for-real-kind-of-vermin-mouse!  And instinct takes over and I swipe it out of his hands, and now I'M HOLDING THE MOUSE!!  With my bare hands!  Ack!!!  I scream to the Wife that she's got to get up and wash the Boy's hands immediately because he just had a mouse in 'em and now I've got to do something with it!  Bless her, she moved faster than I've ever seen her get out of bed ever before.

I took the little beast outside.  I realized as I was doing so that it was dead as it was a) not moving and b) cold.  I also realized that it was quite soft, poor thing, and no wonder why Mozart was so thrilled.  He probably thought it was a new stuffed toy.  I am just glad that I was paying attention enough to have grabbed the thing from him before he kissed it.  He's also very into kissing things lately...