Hey! rub-a-dub, ho! rub-a-dub, three maids in a tub,
And who do you think were there?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker,
And all of them gone to the fair.
Our bathtub has collected some interesting things over the years but maybe not a butcher, baker or candlestick-maker.
What my wife Kathy found in the bathtub Saturday evening still has her spooked.
One would expect to find , especially after the grandkids spent a day like Wednesday outside playing in the dirt.
Of course after an couple hours in the sandbox, one can expect to find lots of sand.
Then there are those rings that get left behind. Our daughter, Robin, often played with bathtub Crayons. That was always fun to clean up.
When son Ryan was little, he often played in the bathtub with his Matchbox cars.
With the grandkids, we often found piles of bubbles left behind. Our bathtub has jets which really get the bubble bath bubbly. They have used the foam to make Santa beards on their faces.
We have plastic Wizard of Oz toys that the grandchildren play with and wash in the bathtub on a regular basis. Sometimes one gets left behind.
Saturday we had just gotten back from Manhattan where we went to the Sunset Zoo. That zoo was one of our favorite places to go when we were in college at K-State. Back then it was free!
We said hello to the groundhog peeking out from his burrow. We knew his great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather Bill. No relation to Punxsutawney Phil, but he could be distantly related to what was in our bathtub.
Kathy went into the bathroom that evening to brush her teeth. When she turned on the light she thought she saw a spider out of the corner of her eye scamper over the tiled vanity.
That’s another thing that often gets found trapped in our bathtub or sink.
She peeked over the edge of the tub.
“Tim! Come here! Quick!” She screamed.
(Now I don’t use exclamation points often but today I just used three. It’s appropriate.)
There, trying to climb its way out of our bathtub was a mouse.
We’ve had mice in the house before, but never in the bathtub. Kathy hates mice.
“It was not a tiny field mouse! It was a city mouse! It was huge!” Kathy said.
She said it first attempted to climb the wall of the deep soaker tub. But the mouse couldn’t get a good grip. It slid back down into the tub.
When I got to the scene, it was franticly scrambling to get out.
What to do!
I couldn’t catch it! I couldn’t shoot it! I couldn’t just scoop it out!
(So many exclamation points today.)
Don’t report me to PETA or to the Humane Society of the United States but I got it out. I will just say the mouse got a proper burial.
“Honey, at least it wasn’t Slinky!” I told Kathy.
Slinky is the five foot long bull snake that shows up from time to time who’s supposed to take care of the mice before they get into the house. She won’t be sighted until at least Mother’s Day when the weather warms up consistently.
I guess now I need to add pest removal to my resume.