Remember that time that I found a chipmunk trapped in cellophane in our basement???
Seriously, why does this stuff happen to me? Oh the joys of living on a wooded lot. When we host outdoor parties, we don't worry as much about mosquitos, but more so field mice and "chippies" running across our guests feet. While wearing sandals. Oops.
Last night, my business partner and I were in the basement creating a few centerpieces for one of our brides. Nothing unusual, right? It's all fun and games until Traci asks me to grab something out of my tool drawer. As I reach for the drawer, something moves and something rustles. I knew before I spotted it that it was a move larger than a spider. Way larger. After screaming and jumping, I spotted it.
There, trapped in the plastic wrap covering my extra mattress set, is a stinking chipmunk. In my house. Our eyes met and the sweat began to pool in my armpits. That's what happens when I see a spider, so you can imagine my deodorant immediately waving the white flag at the sight of a chipmunk INSIDE my home. My deod was like "sister, I am not equipped for this. You're on your own. Try something stronger!"
What do you do when you find a chipmunk wrapped against a mattress? You run and grab the Hubs. He was given three orders. 1. Come grab this animal NOW. 2. You better grab some thick gloves. 3. H.U.R.R.Y.
From here, I'll speed up the process for you, but it involved the following:
- A scurrying chippie
- Maneuvering a large mattress a few different ways as to not crush the munk, but as to not free him either. You want to see me really freak out....set that bad boy free in my house. I DO NOT dare you.
- Tearing the plastic to create a grab hole
- Traci creating a barrier with an old towel
- One chippie being airlifted by his tail
- One wife holding open an old clothe laundry bag while shrieking at the sight of said chippie coming toward her hands
- One wife closing said bag around the Hubs hands and forgetting to release his poor hand, all while shrieking so loudly that she cannot hear him repeatedly saying "let me go! let me go!"
I'm happy to report that all of us survived, chippie included. My deodorant, sadly, did not fair as well. RIP Degree Sport. It's not you, it's me. And the crazy crap that happens to my house. Yes, we can still be friends.
I wish I had taken a photo at the time, but sadly "grab the iPhone" was not one of the thoughts that ran through my mind amongst the chaos. I wish it had though, because how many people get to see a chipmunk secured by plastic in their basement?? Honestly. How does this stuff happen?