You'd think the day would have calmly moved on. I'm still trying to get caught up on some cleaning out projects I began last spring, so I moved on to clean out the girls' room. Those lovely, sweet, angelic, brilliant......... daughters of mine. We cleaned out everything: the closet, the undersides of things, the toy baskets, and then finally made our way to the dressers. About a year ago, seeing as Caelan and McKenna are the same size and share clothing anyway, I combined their clothes from two dressers into one, and used the other dresser for their dress-up clothes and any other random girly items like baby dolls and the like. I've noticed over the last year that it's also where things get hidden, like food and your random science experiment, generally involving soap and water. My words to them as I headed the direction of that dresser were "Let's see what's in your chest of dirty secrets." Caelan's eyes widened and she ran across the room, opening the top drawer to quickly grab something that should not have been there. I stopped her by shutting the drawer and refusing to let her remove the 'dirty secret.' Oh, how I wish it were just food or some trash. Really, that would have been fabulous. But no. Nope. Zilch. Nada.
In our schoolroom, we have a clear container that you can put bugs in and on the top is a magnifying glass so you can safely observe whatever bug or creature you have collected. We all know that freaks me out a bit, but who am I to stunt my children's education over my own phobias? I embrace the homeschool lifestyle of everything is a learning experience. Until we all die of some unexplained airborne disease that comes from bacterial death, that is. Back to the story... I opened the drawer and saw the clear bug container, but before I could figure out what was inside, the pungent smell of death met me. I nudged the canister a bit to determine what was in it and proceeded to lose any grace I've deluded myself into thinking I have grown into after nearly eleven years of children. My freak out was impressive apparently. My daughters sat on their beds, wide-eyed, grasping their faces and then sobbing.
I'm fully aware by this point in my life that the good Lord gave me children for the sheer purpose of keeping me humble and no where near complacent. I've also decided that rodents are my personal nemesis and easily the best way for people to be entertained. That canister with the magnifying glass contained a few days old, rotting, juicy, slimy *shudders and goosebumps still* dead mouse. It's frankly horrifying. It took hours to get the floating toad out of my head... it will take longer with this mouse. I quickly chunked the whole thing. It took until today to suss out why that mouse was in a container, in a dresser drawer, and in my house, and also who did it. I couldn't deal yesterday. Finding it pushed me over the edge. They got quite the lecture yesterday, but I waited until today to get the who and why. The who, surprisingly, was McKenna. It's not really her thing. She did tell me "Well, it's the mouse Fleur (the cat) killed. I buried it for her but then decided I wanted to watch it decompose. With a magnifying glass. But it was starting to smell. But it's skin was doing cool things." That's great. That's lovely. That's *shudders again* absolutely the most appalling and abhorrent thing I've experienced (this month any way).
For future reference, it has been made clear that all science experiments be conducted outside UNLESS CLEARED BY MOM, and that it is possible to observe decomposition merely with a dead animal or any other dying entity outside lying in the grass and not inside, in a container meant for observing bugs. I feel I was overdue for a great Brannon happening. I'd prefer it never to involve toads in toilets or mice ever again. *shudders one more time for good measure*
