The One with Mouse Admissions

The whole point of MckMama's "not me" Monday is to confess.

Admit to those things we'd rather not have people find out.

Proclaim to all who will listen the embarrassing quirks of our seemingly perfect lives.

This week I have just one moment.

Well, that's not true.

I'm sure I have about a million.

But this admission must not be mixed with others.

And before you read on, you must promise not to laugh.

Or make fun of me.

Pinky swear?

I'm serious here, people.

There are tears pouring from my eyeballs.

But these tears definitely do not indicate a breaking heart as I witness the end of our little Bianca's life.

Nope, I'm certainly not one to cry over rodents.

Let alone a mouse I promised to despise.

Not me!

I am not crazy good friends with this little mouse.

Nor am I seriously broken up since discovering what appears to have been a stroke causing her impending death.

I realize that mice only live about 2 years.

And that's about now.

But I wasn't hoping this day wouldn't have to come.

Or that I wouldn't be the one to figure it out.

*tear*

*tears*

Now, won't you excuse me as I tend to my hospice patient?