Wild animals, plastic bats and kitty little boxes.....

I think I'm still in shock that this level of crazy can happen at my house.
While I'm getting ready for work yesterday morning I hear Diddly, the 3 pound demon dog, start going crazy barking. That dog barks at EVERYTHING so I wasn't that concerned until #1 comes to the bedroom and says, "Mommy, Diddly is barking at the couch 'cause it's making funny noises". Ummm......ok? Never heard that one before.  I figure I might as well go check it out to see what all the commotion is about. Sure enough the couch is making 'funny noises', and the dog is acting like shes gonna stroke out any second. I'm debating on just pretending like this is not happening and just continuing to get myself and the kiddies ready and leaving for work. Nope, can't do that. My curiosity has gotten the better of me, I HAVE to see what's under the stupid couch. I move the couch back and HOLY CRAPOLLI! There is a baby opossum under my couch!! IN MY LIVING ROOM! How in the hell has a damn opossum got in my house?!?  Then I think of a better question.....How in the hell am I going to get it out? The hubby has already left for work. Ok, this thing is tiny. Maybe just a little bigger than the dog. I can do this.....maybe. By this time kid #1 is already asking if we can keep it. NO, absolutely not! Ok....think think think....how can I get this thing out. Then I see my saving grace, the empty plastic cat little tub. Thank the lord my hubby is a procrastinator and didn't take it to the trash like I asked him to!! So here I am with a plastic tub an a broom trying to sweep the opossum up. Needless to say that little fucker ran under the love seat. After about 30 minutes of chasing the little shit I finally got him. Yay, go me! Opossum in a tub.....what a way to start my morning. Now what am I going to do with him? I'm thinking I caught him so the hubby can figure out what to do with him right? All I'm going to do is put the lid on the tub, poke a few holes in it, and stick it on the back porch. I have done my duty, I'm leaving for work. I called my hubby on the way, he is torn between laughing at me and wondering how the damn thing got in.

After that crazy morning I decide me and the kiddies are going to a friends house for a play date when I get off work. Plus that will give the hubby time to decide what to do with the stupid thing, and I won't have to deal with it. On our way home from the play date I get a call from the hubby. There is another one. This one was in the cabinet under the sink. So my hubby is on the phone yelling; "HOW IN THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO CATCH THIS THING WHEN I CAN'T FIND A FLASHLIGHT IN THIS WHOLE DAMN HOUSE?!?" "Well, I don't know. There is always a flashlight in the toy box, the kid loves playing with them. I'll be home in a few, don't tear the house down."  Oh, I do NOT want to go home now. I have had my limit of wild animals for the day. Maybe he will have it all under control by the time I get there (yea right!)

When I walk into my house the first word that comes to mind is chaos. The couches are still shoved out of place from my little escapade this morning, but my refrigerator is sitting in the middle of my kitchen floor. The island has been pushed into the hallway, and there are pots and pans scattered everywhere. The best part is the hubs is standing in the middle of all of this with a cardboard box in one hand and a plastic baseball bat in the other. I start laughing, I mean what else can I do at this point? My hubby is so mad at the damn opossum that apparently its not nearly as funny to him. He has been chasing this thing for over an hour. Ok, we are going to have to make a team effort for this one. Finally, it decides to make a run for the living room! Brave little shit. Hubby still has the bat and box, but what does he do? He throws them down and makes a dive for it. Yeah, that was smart. Somehow he catches it (did I mention he has his big work gloves on?). He's got it by the back of the neck and it is not a happy little opossum. I don't think I ever realized how ugly those sons of bitches are. He marches right out the back door with it. I'm cracking up laughing by now. All I can say for our little friends is they will not be making it back in any ones houses anymore. Just call us the great opossum hunters.

The rest of the night consisted of us searching the house for any more 'visitors'. None were found, thank the Lord. We did figure out they had somehow pushed the vent thing out from behind our dryer and got in. That's all fixed now, so hopefully this won't happen again. I need a drink. A BIG one.