This morning, I’m walking to my car, and I’m almost there–getting ready to unlock my door when poof something falls from the sky. I’m wearing a long dress (almost down to my ankles, as it’s better to hide my fat ass that way…not that my ass falls to my ankles, but I digress), and all of the sudden there’s something tangled in my dress, at my ankles, scrambling around my feet. Now, the rational part of my mind is saying, “Oh, my, this must be a squirrel”, however, the emotional part of my mind is screaming, “OHMYGODTHERE’SALIVEANIMALCRAWLINGUPMYLEGANDIT’SGOING TO EATME!” In the street, during the morning rush hour traffic, my whole neighborhood watching, I’m dancing and screaming like a little girl.
The poor squirrel is laying on the road, on it’s side, twitching, a frantic look in it’s eyes. It scooted under my car, and (at this point), I’ve stopped screeching and cautiously edge towards my door, where I literally jump in and slam shut the door. My son, who is on the other side of the car, and who has witnessed his mother dancing around her car on Market Street, is standing by the passenger’s side, very confused. “Get in the car!” I screech at him through the closed window. I’m picturing the squirrel skirting under the car for it’s second attack of the day. Son hops in, slams shut the door. “What happened?” he asks. “It was a squirrel!” I say. “Just a squirrel?” he asks. Ah, the innocence of youth.
We sit there for a few minutes, waiting for a furried tail to jump on the hood of the car, when I see it scurry across the street. It’s still on it’s side and isn’t looking too well. I’m not sure if it was the fall from the sky, or my hysterical dance (or the fact that it probably got a fairly extensive look up my dress) which threw it into the confused and damaged state of mind.
I didn’t tell anyone at work (although I’m sure my son’s camp knows all about the Squirrel attack by now), but I knew that someone at SDMB would know exactally what I’m talking about…
:eek: