I remember one night when I was a child of 6 and my brother Pauly was 5, we had a fun night playing board games with our parents. After that it was off to bed for the night. My parent’s bedroom was next to my room and Pauly’s room was across the hall from us. We lived in South Troy up on the hill, and the woods were practically behind our house. It was a hot summer night, and it was so quiet that I could hear the crickets chirping outside my bedroom window and it lulled me to sleep.
All of the sudden I was shocked awake by my mother screaming! I could not make out what she was yelling about because my bedroom door was closed. I then heard my father’s voice followed by stomping and running. I jumped out of bed and ran out of my room, followed by Pauly coming out of his room; we scooted into our parent’s room to see what all the commotion was about. “Get back to bed”, my father yelled! “A mouse is in here!” But we couldn’t move because it was to funny and horrifying to see our father standing there with only a pair of black & white polka dot boxer shorts on wielding a broom trying to catch that little mouse. my mother wore a thin flowered cotton nightgown; she was standing on the bed. Her eyes were wide as saucers and filled with fright.
Pauly and I never seen this kind of caucus and crazy stuff before from our parents, and we were not about to go back to bed and miss all the fun. My father was swinging the broom around, and chasing the mouse around the room, under the dresser,under the bed, and into the closet, but the little bugger ran out of the closet. “Close the door!’ he hollered. But by then it was too late. The little mouse had run out the bedroom door and into the kitchen. My father stomped after the mouse, and Pauly and I ran after him. We ran and laughed, we were having fun in the middle of the hot and muggy night, which we did not even notice. My father’s eyes flashed anger at us and he glowered at us, though he could not take the time to holler at us. He was too busy yelling at the mouse as he was swinging the broom.
My mother had gotten down reluctantly for her safe spot on the bed and tried to keep me and Pauly out of our father’s way. My father chased the mouse into the parlor and had it in the corner. The mouse stood very still as it crouched against the wall… “Quiet now, all of you’, my father whispered a hiss at us. “Be very quiet”. As he slowly raised the broom and got ready to make the finial blow to the cowering little mouse. But the mouse was to fast for him and darted right between my father’s legs at the very last minute. My father tried to kick the poor little mouse, but his kick hit the wall instead. We all watched as the plaster gave way and now there was a hole in the wall. My mother gasped in horror, but did not say a word. My father threw the broom down on the floor. Yelling, swearing and holding his broken toe with both hands, he started to hop up and down on one leg in our parlor. Pauly and I started to giggle . My mother started to laugh herself. my father started to yell and swear, but my mother stopped him. “Raymond!” she yelled. “The children!”
“Get your little scrawny butts to bed!” my father roared. “NOW!” My father’s face was red and contorted with pain. We did not say and, if or but at that point. Off to bed we took our little scrawny butts.
I never did see that little mouse after that. I have to wonder what did happen to it…