So yesterday was the worst allergy day of the year, hands down. I sneezed and sneezed and sneezed (terrifying the dog) and then my asthma flared up and I coughed and coughed and coughed (alarming my Beloved Husband). I sneezed and coughed so much that I messed up my back, and started walking around the house like a mummy whose bandages were coming loose. Not fun.
Somehow I made it to bedtime. I felt so crappy, I didn’t even care that the Colts were playing the Saints. I took enough medication to knock out an elephant and fell very deeply asleep.
Which explains why BH had a hard time waking me up at 3:30am.
Apparently, he spent at least five minutes doing the gentle-nudge-sweetie?sweetie? thing. Then he said, “Honey, you need to wake up, but don’t be afraid.”
My eyes snapped open. Adrenaline surged.
BH explained that we had another critter in the house. (Critters adore us so much, they are always trying to move in. But they never pay the rent on time and they hold loud parties and let their friends smoke, so we’ve had to adopt a firm “No Critter” rule.)
At first I thought he was saying the critter was somehow poised above my head, preparing to drop on me. Second adrenaline surge. But, no. This one was wedged between a window and the window screen. There was a hole in the screen, and BH couldn’t tell if the critter made the hole in order to escape out of the house, or in an attempt to break in.
In any event, BH couldn’t find the camera.
I was so grateful that nothing with claws was about to drop on my face, I staggered out of bed and found the camera. And then I fell back into my coma. BH took pictures of the critter.
It was a flying squirrel.
A flying squirrel is basically a small rat with a hot cape, a fear of owls, and a banzai attitude.
But as far as rats go, flying squirrels are cuter than most. And I will forever love this one because it did not jump on my head. After taking the pictures, BH opened the window and the little guy sprung off into the darkness.
Now I am going to lay flat on the couch and moan about my back, all the while I try not to sneeze or cough. The snow cannot get here fast enough, I swear. Ragweed is the devil’s handmaiden.