She was under a large chest of drawers in my daughter's bedroom.
Think beady black eyes and whiskers.
And I was on my belly trying my darnedest to get her out. Broom stick in hand, I gently poked and prodded, sending her scurrying every which way but my direction.
I had to round her up, and she could not be injured in the process.
Because unlike the mouse that our dear cat Lovey dropped in my house several months ago -- which sent me screaming for assistance -- THIS rodent had license to be in my home.
She is the newest member of the family.
She is Lily, the guinea pig.
My daughter thinks she is pretty darn cute, and I must admit that she is. But, damn, was she hard to capture after my daughter allowed her, without my permission, to roam.
The irony was not lost on me. I could not even stay in my home last winter when my neighbor hunted for the mouse that Lovey brought on the premises. I screamed like a crazy person. But, there I was, last night, at times almost eyeball to eyeball with a rodent -- a very quick rodent -- and I was even making kissy noises to entice her into the open.
My daughter wanted so badly to help. She began to wonder if Lily would stay forever under the dresser, only to wither away and starve. (Haven't I mentioned that I sometimes worry about Olivia's anxiety?)
But there wasn't much my daughter could do. And our joint frustration started to build -- although it was, at the same time, pretty amusing.
Little Lily seems to take a poop with every third or fourth breath, and I could just picture the stuff accumulating, pellet by stinky pellet.
Lord, ain't life something?
What really cracked me up about the whole thing was my five-year-old daughter's take on it.
"Mom," she says to me, "Why don't you just call some workers?"
What the ......?
Do I look like I have workers????
My house is a mess, my hair is too long, my toenails have a teensy bit of paint on them from the last time I took out the polish two months ago, and laundry is piling up in three different places.
There may be a few parents of kids at her pre-school who have some workers, but I am not among them.
Finally, I decided the only way to get our little friend was to move the dresser. It was heavy, but I pulled the thing part-way out from the wall. I think Lily was so blinded, she didn't know what the hell to do.
And I got her.
A little TLC later and she was back in her cage.
Olivia was finally getting in the bed.
And it was time for some Q&A, Olivia-style.
Mom, how did God make people?
How long has the Earth been here?
How did He make the land and the water and the animals?
Is God in our bodies?
How can God be everywhere?
Sweet goodness, shouldn't it just be enough that I captured the pig????
Sometimes, poop-included, motherhood really is sweet.