I am sitting in my bed, hiding from the chipmunk....and probably his friend, the squirrel. About an hour ago, I heard some noise in my family room. Didn't think much of it..thought maybe it was the wind. Then, I saw something move in the garage. How did I see something move inside my garage from inside my house? The wall unit in our family room had to have a hole drilled in one of the cabinets (in the back) in order for the cable wires to run from the box to the something or other thru the garage. Do other people have to do this?? Have wires running all over and in random areas???? And, in order for the high tech remote that Jordan got us to work, the cabinet must be open in order to change channels or to change the volume. Anywho....first the noise.....then something filled up the hole. Then, that something was running across my floor. I, literally, was standing on my couch screaming bloody murder, when the chipmunk realized he ran into a corner, then ran back into the cabinet and thru the whole.
First, I called Steve crying and screaming. (just what every man wants to hear while he's at work) His answer was for me to call the village. Um, why would they give a shit if I have a chipmunk in my house? I kept crying and screaming until he said he was on his way home. Then, I called my dad. He didn't answer his phone. Next, I called my mom. She said it was interesting. Really????? As interesting as when you went postal over the mouse in your house?????? Then, she told me to call my father. So, I called him again and this time he answered. I told him of my situation and he also said it was interesting. WTF??????? He said I should go open the garage so the chipmunk could leave. Um, then I'd have to get off the couch, which would cause me to not be able to watch the hole where the said chipmunk kept playing hide and seek. Then, he suggested I call Jordan and have him bring Oliver, his dog, over to scare it away. That would probably work, but Jordan is swamped and doesn't have time to deal with my idiotic phobias.
Steve came home with weapons still attached to his uniform, along with a scissors and duct tape. He closed up both sides of the whole while I kept yelling and crying and he proceeded to laugh at me for being a baby. I'm not sure why a furry thing running thru our house is funny......Maybe it would be funny if Steve was the one who was home alone and saw it.
I am now completely paranoid that the little shit is still in my house. His friend, the squirrel took refuge in my garage on Sunday, but I got rid of him. Apparently, he didn't like the rain. We once had a raccoon die in our garage. Steve and I were in Arizona and my parents were with the kids. My dad opened the door from the house to the garage and saw the raccoon climbing a ladder we had against a wall, and my dad freaked and yelled, and the raccoon fell backwards. He then crawled to a corner of the garage to die. My dad knew he was dead because he had my mom keep throwing objects at it and poking it to see if it would react. It didn't. At that time, Steve somehow convinced the village to come get rid of it. Their suggestion was to throw it into our garbage can. Oh---great idea...so then all the random animals can get into my garbage can and have a giant picnic.
I don't know why the animals like my garage so much......it's a garage...not appealing in any way, shape or form. Maybe it's because my children don't seem to understand the concept of CLOSING THE DOOR. I keep telling them there will be animals. No one seems to want to believe me. When one runs in front of them, maybe they'll get the idea. Although, really, I hope we are done with this. I cannot take it. I can't breathe. And, I'd rather not spend the rest of the day in my room.