I Was So Afraid, I Jumped Out Of My Kitchen Window
Nope, I wasn’t drunk. I was afraid. I was overcome by that run-for-your-life kind of fear. The kind of fear that makes you irrational. You know, flipping crazy! That was me, because I lost it. There was no way I was going to die that day. I was determined to see tomorrow, so I didn’t think twice. I just reacted.
As soon as I saw that mouse race across the floor, I jumped onto the kitchen table. The table was next to the window, so I jumped out the window. My husband was just coming around the corner from the hallway. “Hey, how’d you get outside? I didn’t see you leave,” he said.
I was screaming. I was almost crying. “There’s a mouse! There’s a mouse in the kitchen,” I shouted.
“MOVE!” he screamed out at me.
I thought that mouse was coming straight towards me. (Even though, I didn’t see it anymore.) “MOVE,” he screamed again. And with that — he jumped out of the kitchen window, too!
So there we were, staring into our kitchen from the outside. Then, in absolute award-worthy unison, we turned to face each other, and simultaneously screamed, “ANTONIO!” We had left our son in the house with the mouse!
“Go get my baby, you &*$*@* coward!” I screamed at my husband.
“YOU get him, MIEDOSA!” he shouted back. (That’s like a scaredy-cat)
Antonio was about six-years-old at the time. He walked into the kitchen and smiled towards us, as we stared at him, from outside the window, terrified that mouse would jump up and suck my baby’s face off. We started screaming at Antonio, telling him to jump out the window, too! We would catch him. (The window was barely three feet from the ground.) He wouldn’t come out! He started making up some ridiculous song about his big parents, the big babies, afraid of a little mouse.
My husband continued to shout out at our son while Antonio proudly swore to catch that mouse himself. He was determined to save the day! I ran to the neighbor’s house and begged him to jump through my kitchen window (since the front door was locked) to save my son. I was a bit hysterical, so the neighbor came rushing over as if my kitchen were about to blow up into an explosion of fire. He ran behind me, and jumped INTO my house, through the window. Antonio said hello to him and began telling mean little jokes about his big-baby parents afraid of the tiny mouse.
After my neighbor caught his breath from his leap into cant-breathe hysterical laughter, Antonio and him caught that mouse, but I wanted to move! For at least a week I didn’t go back into my kitchen. Every night was order-in night.
I grew up with a Tarantula, Scorpion, 6ft+ Boa Constrictor, owned a very big horse, three ponies, and came face to face with a bat, but I couldn’t handle that mouse. And?
This happened about ten years ago, and Antonio has been my hero ever since. (Completely unrelated: don’t say every since. That’s not a thing, you know. It’s EVER SINCE…) He has chased away dogs, a goat that jumped onto my car, a stray cat that ran into our house and got stuck on a cabinet near the ceiling, and even confronted the skunk that recently destroyed our central heating system when it decided to nest in our basement. That’s a whole other stinking story!
Anyway, in case you haven’t figured it out; I’m afraid of mice.
What are you afraid of? I’d love to read all about it in the comments!
By: Alicia Gonzalez