Squirrel!

At one point when I was a teenager, we lived in a super nice house in Minneapolis. It was just gorgeous with TONS of space, which was perfect since there were so many of us...plus extras that came home with my brother on weekends. During the time of living there, we were trying to raise support so we could move to Kansas City, which meant that we visited a different church every weekend. Not my favorite thing, but I survived.

One Sunday night, we came home to find our living room had been absolutely trashed. It didn't look like anything had been taken, but vases had been knocked over, little glass figurines were smashed, piano music had been ruined by the water from vases, everything on the mantle was on the ground, and other random decorations were scattered across the floor. 

Immediately, we panicked big time and assumed youths had been behind it, but that didn't really make sense. That was when we noticed tiny footprints on the wall. Animal prints. Hmmm...

It all made sense quickly when we saw the squirrel frantically running across the fireplace. My dad sprang into action by shoving me and my two younger sisters into the office! Wait, what? My mom and older sister stayed out in the living room to help my dad. By standing on the couch, holding a box in front of them to protect themselves from the squirrel. Screaming.

Yes, I disobeyed a direct command by leaving the office to help my dad, but he couldn't trap a baby squirrel by himself! (Yes, it was a baby. So adorable, I know. I guess it would've been cuter in a different situation.) I grabbed the box out of my mom's hands and chased that dumb squirrel from one direction while my dad came at it from the other way with a broom. 

Success. We got it!

But in our excitement, we definitely didn't have a lid. The squirrel tasted freedom once again. Curses!

There was a large amount of time in between the last sentence and the next sentence. If it were a movie, it'd be a montage. It was a lot of shouting, screaming, jumping, grabbing, missing, swatting, throwing, and hoping, for a good half hour. Trust me, I'm sparing you by not writing down all the details.

Then, FINALLY, we got him again. I'm telling you, that was an insanely proud moment for me: SO much success! 

The squirrel was released out into the wild, never to be seen by us again. I think. I don't know, all squirrels look the exact same to me.

The next morning before school, my younger sister heard a weird noise by the tv stand. She walked over to check it out, leaned in way close to get a good look...and another squirrel we didn't know about (that was 2 shelves up) pushed a video tape out. 

It hit her on the head. 

She screamed. 

We then had the excitement of catching another squirrel to release into the wild.

Not a bad weekend.