Mouse in My Wall

I have at long last discovered something that frightens me. I’ve spent a lot of time in the family garden, so I’m not afraid of bugs. I’m not afraid of flying because I started flying before I was old enough to get nervous about it. I’m not afraid of heights, probably for the same reason. What I am afraid of? Mice. In my wall. Chewing. And I saw him too. He wasn’t even that big, but he went running across my floor and I screamed and nearly slept on the couch instead of in my room. That’s how much he surprised me. Thing is, I’d been hearing him chewing in my wall every night at midnight for about three days in a row, and I didn’t realize what it was. My mom found the nest and cleaned it up, and I haven’t heard him since then. Phew.

Side note, I have squirrels/birds nesting in the corner of the roof above my bed. -____-

Oh, and I just gave my mom one of my new business cards with my URL written on the back, and she said, “Is this your blog? How do I use it?” Only my mother.

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