R.O.U.S.

So Brittany and I were sitting around watching the finale of Dancing With the Stars when we both started to hear this rustling sound, an unusually loud rustling kind of sound.  Thinking that we're both ninja hunters, Brittany paused the TV so we could use our sweet bat like hearing and triangulate the location of our trespassing rodent.  There have been mice in the kitchen before, and we thought it might be louder than a usual mouse if it was in the trash can or something...but then we got to the kitchen, and realized the sound was clearly coming from upstairs.  And then our courage failed us.  I took the first stab at it, but I only made it up to the landing before I got too freaked out and stopped.  Brittany was braver and climbed the outside of the upper stairs, and the intermittent rustling rustled again.  "It's totally coming from your room!" is the worst phrase in this situation, but it totally was, so we did the logical thing and ran screaming down the stairs.  At some point we may have even gone out the front door, but it's my story and I don't have to tell you that part if I don't want to. 

Lets just summarize the next bit by saying my bedroom emitted flailing sounds off an on through three shrieking phone calls with my papa (because that's what we empowered modern women do) and a few more investigation attempts, until we convinced Brittany's new boy to come be a man and kill it for us.  We were both kind of uselessly freaked out at this point by the realization that it was waaaaay too loud for a mouse, but not chirpy enough for a bird, which really only left raccoon or ROUS as our choices. 

Of course once the hunter showed up, the prey disappeared, and you know what thought is worse than "I have to catch a creature in my room!"?  Spoiler: it's "the creature in my room evaded us and is STILL LURKING!!!"  Luckily, we did finally find the culprit, and we took a picture of him with this random lady to put on my blog.  Okay that part was a lie.  Our culprit was none other than... a super scary Mylar balloon that had detached itself from my surgery*flowers and gotten stuck in the ceiling fan. 

You'd think I'd feel foolish admitting we spent an hour hunting a helium balloon, but I'm so relieved not to have a creature that I'm happy to tell you all about my real life episode of "I Love Lucy!"  If only our Ricky had a swarthy Latin accent...

*I may have neglected to mention that I had my appendix out four weeks ago.  That was another adventure for a different day.