Death to Squirrels

Posted: January 28, 2012 by sneakerporndiaries in Uncategorized

Today was a busy day which really started last night with dinner with my cousin. I had a Boot Camp session scheduled with my trainer that my other cousin was coming to on the far side of town. Then her and I visited over a bowl of oatmeal, toast and orange juice (I had the oatmeal). Afterwards, I ran home through a freak snow shower to change clothes, grab all the laundry bags and heff them over to the laundry mat. Fifteen people hid all the the rolling baskets. Seriously. There were two or three parked alongside various rows of washers with all sorts of crap piled up inside of them. It was then I realized the obvious:

The laundry mat was filled with hoarders.

I got to read half an issue of Time on my nook. Really. I’ve blurted this out before: it’s interactive. For someone who has a teeny tiny addiction to electronics….it’s AWESOME! I check news junk online throughout the day or week, but Time I read cover to cover. Makes my laundry days less boring. And I don’t glare at the guy who decided to shove my stuff over on the table to fold his boxers (uh…EEW!).

After folding my boxers (kidding) I trollopped over to Meijer on 14 Mile Road. There’s a reason I don’t shop at Meijer on 14 Mile Road. It was freaking packed and full of rude people. Rather than say “Excuse me” to  shopping cart clusters of customers fighting over a jar of peanut butter like two top models would fight over a candy bar (joking!), people would just stand in the way…staring. As if sheer will were enough to shove all of the obstacles out of the way. I wasn’t having any of it. I was on a mission, and some dude was in the way of my almonds – he looked like his puppy got kidnapped. I politely said “Excuse me”, he dramatically picks up the cart an moves it over, I politely say “Thank yoooou”. I think he attempted to bore holes into the back of my head with his imaginary laser beam eyes because I made it through the peanut-butter-fighting-shopping-cart-people-cluster.

Well, nobody was fighting over peanut butter. I said that for dramatic effect.

I got home and started to unload my treasure trove of goodies and clean socks. Armed with six or seven bags and a relatively heavy purse, I tromp up the stairs, push the little screen door open and step onto my porch (it’s more like a super big mud room). Over to the right I noticed two bags of clothes I had sitting there were disturbed. One had fallen off the other  with obvious signs of rodent tampering. The other was tipped over and had this gaping hole  that had been torn in it, there were black plastic pieces of the bags all over the floor.

Next the bag moved, I screamed and an overly-nourished grey squirrel bolted out from between a pair of pants and flannel pajama bottoms which were in the bag, ran into my leg and slammed himself into the corner of the screen door. Kid you not, head first. His little arms splayed out from the force of the impact – like something out of a cartoon: splat! Then he ran through the opening, zipped down about seven stars and sat there. Staring at me. He drummed his little claws together like he was pondering the next move, but his little black beady eyes silently dared me to drop the groceries and give chase.

I tried to shoo him off the stares, but all he did was glare at me.

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