I HAVE SHREWS IN MY KITCHEN!
I thought it was kinda cute when my youngest said there was a black mouse running around the kitchen. "Huh," I thought. "Who knew that mice came in different colors?"
Turns out they don't.
Shrews are small, nocturnal rodents with no ears and tiny, tiny eyes, and apparently, they eat insects and worms and "baby mice" (all together now, EWWWWWW!) Their saliva is poisonous and they're supposed to live OUTSIDE. My Peterson's Field Guide to Mammals makes no mention of shrews living in houses, but evidently the shrews haven't read my field guide.
The whole shrews-in-the-kitchen thing kinda sent me over the edge. I mean, what with icky revisions on my work in progress, another book that I had to start then stop in order to do the icky revisions (I hate that,) dogs eating butter off the kitchen counter (don't ask), teenagers having dramatic screaming fits, and general chaos all around, it was all just too much.
Which is why I've decided to contemplate Jack. Please. You can join me. Let's all contemplate Jack. His steady blue eyes, his golden stubble because he's been up for 24 hours, his slightly rumpled hair because he has no time for combs...
There. I feel better already, don't you? I mean Jack puts it all into perspective, doesn't he? I have to deal with shrews in the kitchen. Jack has to deal with nuclear bombs. My life could be worse.
And y'know, I bet Jack is the kind of man who could take care of those shrews. He'd come into my kitchen all rumpled and slightly weary (been up 24 hours) and wearing a Kevlar vest (that Kevlar vest is sooooo sexy!) and he'd look at me sternly and say in his deepy growly voice, "Stand aside, ma'am. I'm a federal agent," and he'd take out his big (BIG) black gun and...
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
No more shrews.
PS: Tell me how you'd like Jack to save your day and I'll send one lucky poster an autographed copy of THE RAVEN PRINCE. Just because I care.