The Nativity And The Mummified Mouse (2021)
- Jen C
- 7 days ago
- 2 min read
Oh my sweet Lord, and I say that not to use his name in vain, but wow, folks, just wow…we almost had to cancel Christmas.
Last weekend I cleaned out our storage area in the basement. I tossed a lot of things. I didn’t see anything scurry or scamper around while down there, but I did notice quite a few decorations were destroyed. Disappointed, I swept things up.
Fast forward to earlier today…
While singing along to Christmas tunes playing on our Amazon device (this is not a sales pitch for Amazon), the girls decorated the windows with gel clings. The tree was up, and Lex and Anni tag-teamed putting the final touches on our colorful, artificial greenery. Ed worked with Lex on hanging crystal snowflakes and ornaments from the living room ceiling. Krampus pillows strewn about the couch, soon to be thrown on the floor by an elderly basset hound. They did an excellent job.
Can you picture it so far?
The only thing missing was the nativity. My nativity that was robbed in the late 90s at a crazy Christmas party at our house that had a literal hot tub on wheels (we rented it for the night), much alcohol, and the result was a stolen Baby Jesus that was held hostage for around 5 years. 5 years! But honestly, that night is an entirely different post. I mean, don’t we all have stories from the late 90s, before kids, before digital photo evidence?
But back to the nativity. I asked Anni to open up the box. It had hot pink feathers shredded in the box, stuck to the manger. I didn’t find a feather boa in the basement, but it’s definitely what it looked like. She dumped the box on our couch. Feathers were really stuck to it. She turned it around, and the entire left side of the manger was PACKED with a NEST. After seeing the unfortunate state it was in, it went straight into the trash. Yes, it had to be tossed. There was no saving this nativity.
Anni looked down on the couch and proceeded to FREAK OUT. There, sitting on my leather sofa among the dust and feathers dumped out of the box, was a mummified mouse. She panicked. She went straight girly-girl, shrieking at the posthumous rodent next to Baby Jesus himself.
The couch was vacuumed, the floor swept, the body unceremoniously taken to the trash, and the seating was sanitized with Clorox wipes (that might be a sales pitch for Clorox).
I decided not to cancel Christmas. Honestly, I think we have another nativity in the basement (the nicer of the two), but I’m a little afraid to check it out at the moment.
Hope you all had a Happy Thanksgiving!
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