Heroine

I recently saved my son from certain death. Now, he did not know it at the time and to be honest I am having a bit of trouble getting him to accept that fact. But none the less, that is my perspective.


It started early one dark morning when I blearily made my way into the bathroom to be greeted by a visitor, a visitor of rodent variety. At that point my body hijacked the rest of me as I let out a piercing scream while trying to get my suddenly uncooperative body parts back out of the bathroom. As I tried to get through a doorway that was suddenly much too small for all of me, I rammed into the shelving by the door and knocked it all down. As the house was still ringing with my screams and the crash of falling furniture my son came hurtling out of his bedroom to save me from the crazed killer he thought must be chasing me through the house.

When I told him that there was a mouse in the bathroom he looked at me with total disbelief and it was at that point that he began to lecture me about reacting so strongly to a poor little mouse and scaring him so badly. That is when I pointed out that he should be thanking me for saving his life. That “poor little mouse” I explained, was on his way to his bedroom to kill him in his sleep. I had stopped it. I had sacrificed myself, my dignity and my body parts (that had crashed into the shelves) to save him from the murderous mouse.

He opened his mouth to reply several times but nothing came out. That was when I patted him on his head and told him, "You're welcome son".

That is my story and I am sticking to it.