I promise, this is the last post about the drama that is our squirrel problem. I'm worn out recalling all of the sickening details, plus, I've got to get to more important matters, like the fact that I saw a real live version of Mr. Tumnus at Barnes and Noble yesterday...no lie.
Ok, so Brandon and I are in full battle attire and we creep into my room to find out where big boy went. We look all around and then, just when we're about to throw in the towel, we find it....on the towel. I had hung a bath towel over my glass shower door and big boy had climbed into my shower and was hanging by his disgusting little rat-like claws from this towel that not too long ago touched the nether regions of my body.
Nevermind the fact that had I not known all of this, I very easily could have gotten into this shower stall NAKED and unsuspecting with a frickin squirrel. In all seriousness, I would need to be institutionalized for life had that happened.
Back to the story... Brandon and I devise a plan to trap him. We got a large rolling igloo cooler and decide to move the towel over slowly, open the shower door, place the cooler under the squirrel, dump the towel into the cooler, close the lid, and roll him out of the house. Sounds easy enough, right? I mean, what in this simple plan could possibly go wrong?
Don't answer that.
So, we bring the cooler upstairs, actually move the towel incrementally (with the squirrel hanging on it, mind you), open the shower door, push the cooler into place and line up together to push the towel into it. At that precise moment, all hell broke loose. The squirrel could sense his fate and so, like any normal rodent would do, he went completely insane trying to escape. He lept over the shower door (he was a flying squirrel after all), into my bathroom, under my bed, into my closet, up the wall, back into the bathroom, up Brandon's leg, out of the room, down the stairs and out the front door. This all happened in a matter of 30 seconds, in which I completely left my child stranded. I don't recall doing this, but when the beast jumped, so did I apparently. I didn't know that I could still move this fast, but in the blink of an eye, I was ON TOP of my vanity dresser while my son made like a statue and didn't move.
After our 30 seconds of sheer terror, we laughed (him) and cried (me) together as we tried to piece together what had happened. I still cannot believe that it touched Brandon - the thought of those creepy claws and bushy tail against my leg makes me gag to this day. But readers, as you have already figured out, my son is way more mature than me. He does sort of shudder every time he sees a squirrel in our yard and he has asked for a BB gun for his birthday. I think I might get it for him.