Sunday, August 21, 2011


A little over a year ago, I wrote a little children's story that has now taken a whole new meaning.

At the time, it was harmless, a simple little story that came from a quote I had seen. I wrote it for my creative writing class, and ever since then I have been happy with it. One of my favorites. Here it is, for those of you who missed that part of my life.


“Have you ever noticed that mice don’t have any shoulders?” –George Carlin
 
 
                                            Scimpers’ Shoulders. Or Lack Thereof.. 
 
            The pitter patter of little paws sounded across the dark, basement floor. A mouse could be seen scampering toward another mouse, who was rummaging through the available trash, hoping for any kind of morsel for eating. The first mouse, who’s name was Scimpers, inquired of the other mouse, Gippy, a query that was rather surprising because it is quite a profundity. 
            Scimpers said to Gippy, “Have you ever noticed that mice don’t have shoulders? Have you ever wondered why?”
            Gippy, though, was right in the middle of sniffing a potentially delicious piece of cracker, which to his surprise included salt! In the mice community, this was a rare and special occurrence, right up there with finding a substantial chunk of cheddar cheese. So, naturally, thoughts of Scimpers and his strange question, no matter how fleeting they were, had vanished as he devoured his cache. When every last scrap was consumed, Gippy was finally brought back to reality by Scimpers’ persistent stare. 
            “Uh, what again?” Gippy asked.
            “I said,” Scimpers reminded rather exasperatedly, “Have you ever noticed that we, as mice, have no shoulders? I mean, they seem largely necessary.” 
            Gippy just stared. “Why?”
            Scimpers expressed his frustration with a deep, vexed “Ugh!” He was quite upset that this fellow mouse wasn’t hung up on such a paramount question.
            “Why? Why?? For the same reason that I can’t just shrug this off. I can’t shrug at all! Because in order to perform a shrug, one must have shoulders! So I can’t let this go, or shrug it off, until I get an answer to my question!” 
            After his little rant, Scimpers was quite out of breath, for this was becoming very important to him. “I need an answer!” he finally said, and sagged to the floor. 
            Gippy thought this over, although this did not seem at all important to him. But if he could give Scimpers any kind of logical answer, he knew that Scimpers would likely go away. But after this thought, Gippy sighed. Mice were not meant to be logical creatures. They lived to scamper and flee from other animals, and eat. That’s it!
            “I’ll give you an answer,” Gippy replied. “Your answer is maybe mice, the most humble of creatures, do not have shoulders because they don’t need to shrug, because they should not be asking unanswerable questions that they would need to shrug off. Impossible questions are for those who have nothing to do but think, and we mice just don’t have time for idle thinking.” 
            Scimpers thought this over for a minute. Gippy waited, although he began to look longingly at the pile of trash several feet away that he had not inspected yet. He feared that Zippy or Pippy, who were nearby, would get to it first.
            Finally, Scimpers shook his head and walked away. Gippy was very relieved, and moved over to the rubbish and stuck his nose in. 
            Meanwhile, Scimpers had migrated to another treasure seeking mouse, whose name was Tippy.
            Scimpers said to Tippy, “Have you ever noticed how mice don’t have any shoulders?”


A story about cute little mice. Care to venture a guess why this story does not now seem to me like the cutesy little fable that it was supposed to be? Well, I'll tell you another story.

It was yet another sleepless night. This has been happening way too often lately. Its completely screwing up my sleep schedule. I've begun to hate sleeping in, but that's a hard thing to avoid when I lay in bed until 3am or later. One night sleep even alluded me until 6 am. I thought I was going crazy. 

This night though, I was hearing sounds. This may have been a sign of growing senility, or an absolute truth. Take your pick. Just know this: What I was hearing all night was little scampering sounds of Scimpers' peers, complete with a tiny little squeaking as they were conversing with each other.  

Yes. This really happened. 

I know because the next morning, my radio, set to a timer, came on at 7am and I woke up just enough to notice new sounds. Closer sounds. Sounds that were no longer muffled by the ceiling panels. The mouse was IN MY ROOM!

Yes. This really happened.

Immediately I sat up, wide-eyed, with absolutely no more sleep in mind. I listened more closely. Yes, there was definitely something snuffling around the corner, behind my desk, where I had stupidly left a shopping bag. 

So I am freaking out, not yet crying, wondering what to do. I text my mom, telling her the situation. We text back and forth, and gradually I start to cry, cause I just have no idea what I am going to do, or even If I could do anything. 

I was just getting up to reach across my room to grab a Kleenex when one of them RUNS ACROSS MY ROOM! I jumped about a foot in the air, screamed, and grabbed my phone, crying my dignity away. I call mom and the first thing I say is a very garbled "It just ran across my room! I don't know what to do! Mommy I don... kn...t...do... help meeeeee...!"

Needless to say, I calmed down enough to get myself out and drive to Salt Lake, thank goodness. I would not have been able to live in that darned apartment a moment longer. We went back that night to the rest of my stuff, (half of it already moved out), and later in the week to clean and check out. Its lucky I was so close to moving out. 

Now, this story may only serve to tell you that I am a huge wimp who is driven out of my apartment by mice, or just a waste of your time cause you just couldn't care about my failings as a mouse killer. Whichever, just know, I am not sure I am still able to watch Ratatouille anymore. That's what this experience has done to me. And makes me VERY glad that I move into my new apartment tomorrow morning. Couldn't be more excited. Maybe my life will no longer be unoriginal and unexciting. Just maybe. I am leaving the possibilities open.

But really, knowing me, my life will not turn into a Hollywood movie just by moving to a new place. I will be satisfied with a CW TV show, though.

As always,

AmandaInLogan(via Salt Lake)

P.S. I apologize for the stupid highlighting thing going on. I could NOT get rid of it. 

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