Trouble For Us All

I have trouble with mice. No, let me rephrase that - I have trouble with killing mice. I especially have trouble with mousetraps. Anyone who reads a fair amount of picture books has a certain affinity for mice, from Beatrix Potter's Tailor of Gloucester, Johnny Town-Mouse and Mrs. Tittlemouse to Kevin Henkes' Chrysanthemum, Wemberly, Owen, Julius, Wendell, Sheila Rae and Chester.

It's the matter of disassociation that I am incapable of achieving when it comes to these tiny creatures. I see that little mouse running thoughout the house, and before I know it, I have introduced myself. After a couple of meetings, I find out that the mouse has a name and a story. And after a week, he has become a household guest. I think the proper term is anthropomorphism, and I am "Queen Anthropomorphodite"!

Of course, the general consensus of most of the sane members of my family is that the best mouse is a dead mouse. So, I try to find the most humane euthanazia possible for the tiny mammals. I refuse to use glue pads. The idea of catching a mouse on one of those sticky pads and the tiny animal struggling for it's (literal) life to get free gives me the creeps. If you don't agree with me, that's fine. I just have a problem with starvation, suffocation, dehydration, torture and slow death! I also can't stand the bait that causes the mouse to search for water, which activates the poison and explodes in their stomach. Something seems terribly sinister about that whole concept. And the worst form of eradication for me - MOUSETRAPS!

Humans are absolutely obsessed with mousetraps! There's the spring-loaded bar mousetrap, the mouth mousetrap, the electric mousetrap, and believe it or not, the inert gas mousetrap that notifies the user by email so the trap can be emptied!

Just recently my mom told me about a humane way to eradicate mice. It's a anticoagulant bait they eat that supposedly kills them humanely and painlessly. After they have ingested the poison, it also embombs the mice so they don't have an offensive odor when they die. So, I tried it. The next morning, I opened my bedroom door, and a baby mouse was dead in the hall. He had one little drop of blood on his mouth, and I know he sacrificed his life to send me a message! Leave us alone!

Years ago, I received The Mouse Trap Story via email. I knew that the mouse tale had to be part of the Tomorrow Trunk, but I wanted to write an adaptation in picture book format. I also wanted my version to rhyme. I entitled my adaptation Trouble For Us All. I searched to find a name to credit the original story, but all I could find was Anonymous. Maybe it should have been credited to Anonymouse!

TROUBLE FOR US ALL

Mouse looked through a crack in the wall,
and that’s what started trouble for us all!

Farmer had a sack tucked behind his back.
He bent way down to Mouse’s hidden crack…
“I’m going to catch you, sneaky little mouse.
Starting today, there’s a trap in the house.”

Farmer held out his hand and the flat wooden trap
with a tiny gold hinge and a GREAT BIG SNAP!

Mouse ran outside! He squealed and he squalled!
“A trap in the house means TROUBLE FOR US ALL!”

Chicken, quite nobly, raised her proud head.
“Dear Little Mouse,” she clucked, “I heard what you said.
But truly this means no trouble for me.
Don’t ruffle my feathers! Please let me be!”

Well, Pig was a-wallowing like all pigs do.
“Mouse, I know the trap means trouble for you;
but the sun is shining, and I need a nap.
Come join me in the mud and forget about the trap.”

Now Cow was so big, and mouse was so small,
that Cow barely heard Mouse shrieking at all.
She made fun of Mouse, "MOO-OOOH! We all need to hide!
Let’s dig a deep hole and get way down inside!
Now, MOOO-VE!" Cow bellowed, and Mouse ran away.
“I’ll dig a deep hole,” said Mouse, “and that’s where I’ll stay!”

That very night trouble started with a SNAP!
Wife woke up and ran to check the trap!

But it wasn’t Mouse in the trap (like she thought),
instead the tail of a sneaky snake was caught!
Snake was scared, and he wanted to be free;
so when Wife bent down, he bit her on the knee!

Farmer called the doctor, and the doctor said,
“Your wife will be fine, if she just stays in bed.
If she runs a fever, here’s what to do –
make her a pot of hot chicken stew.”

So Farmer grabbed his hatchet, and he went outside.
Chicken saw trouble coming, and she ran away to hide.
She spied Mouse’s deep hole, and with a little peck,
tapped on the door to save her pretty neck.

Wife got better without chicken stew,
so Farmer decided to have a big barbecue.
“Let’s thank our neighbors, our family and our friends.”
So he grabbed his hatchet, and he headed to the pen.
Pig saw trouble coming, and he slid behind a log.
Farmer couldn’t find hide nor hair of that hog!
Pig is down in the hole with Chicken and Mouse,
and it’s all because there’s a trap in the house.

Finally, Wife was well, and Farmer couldn’t wait
to invite the whole town to come and celebrate!
How would he feed them all? He knew how!
He grabbed his hatchet, and he headed for the cow.
Cow saw trouble coming, and she jumped over the gate!
She knew she had to hide or else seal her fate!
So, deep, deep down in Mouse’s hole she went,
and that is where her next two weeks were spent.

When the farm was safe, they all came out.
Each one of them had a tale to talk about…
It really doesn’t matter if you’re big or you’re small –
trouble for one means TROUBLE FOR US ALL!

Adaptation, 2005. Dianne B. McLaurin.

During the past few years, we have learned many lessons about the importance of personal and global responsibility, and how they are so interconnected. We are all first-hand witnesses of the "ripple effect" within our ecosystems and our economy. We have learned that even when there is a teeny, tiny trap in our big global house, the end result might be trouble for us all. Maybe that's why there is only room for mouse stories in the Tomorrow Trunk, and never mousetraps!

Dianne ; )

A Story In There

Certain events in my life just belong in my story. Big things and little things, like having my first article (that I wrote in the fifth grade) published on the front page of our county newspaper or learning about apertures and f-stops in my tenth grade photography class where I was introduced to my first SLR camera. Of course, there was the night I met my husband, the birth days of my kids and my year at the beach. Still, at the top of the list was the day I was hired to be a children's librarian. In my former life, I had been a newspaper reporter, editor and general manager of a weekly newspaper. Then, I stayed home for ten years to be with my young children. I decided to go back to work when my youngest son entered his fifth grade of school. I had been offered three opportunities for employment: an insurance sales person for Aflac, a showroom decorator for a high-end antique store and a children's librarian at a public library. I chose the latter; and like the front page article and the photography class, that decision completely impacted my life and became part of my story.

My first position was at a city library, and my first branch manager was an old-schooled librarian. Every morning, we made sure that all the spines of all the books were completely parallel to the front of all the shelves. Actually, that was just one of many rituals that became a part of my library experience. However, as a children's librarian, my main responsibility was Preschool Story Time. I was a perfect fit!

I absolutely love children's books! To this day, I can glean more from a book with 500 words and a great lesson, than I can from a 500-page novel. Most people just read picture books, and think - cute. I read a children's book and I think composition and editing, patterns and repetition, and illustration and color, plus the ten essential items for the reading fair story boards. And I always know there's "a story in there."

One Wednesday - Preschool Story Time day - at the first library where I worked (I have worked at seven, I think), I was unable to come to work due to a sick child. I did not have sufficient time to contact the parents of the preschoolers, so my branch manager said that she would inform them at the circulation desk that the story time was cancelled. She told me to take care of my child and not to worry.

The next day, she relayed to me the sweetest story - a story I haven't forgotten in twelve years. One little four-year-old boy was so disappointed that story time had been cancelled. He grabbed his mother's hand and dragged her to the glass door of the story time room. He then said, "Please look, Mommy. I know there is a story in there."

Awww. My heart still melts when I think about that request. But then, like those picture books with 500 words, I felt the deeper profoundness of the statement. My oldest daughter always describes me to her brother and sister by saying, "You know Momma. She has always gotta have a story."

I know when my kids open the Tomorrow Trunk for years to come, they will be assured to find a story in there. But, the way that small child looked through the glass door is the way we all should look at the everyday rituals and patterns of our lives. Rituals, patterns, plots, repetitions, edits - life is just one big picture book! There is always a story in there. Maybe we just accept that preschool story time has been cancelled for us, or maybe we can be just like a little four-year-old determined to find a story.

This past Wednesday I was driving home on my favorite Mississippi highway. I have always passed a sign about a canoe and cabin rental place called Okatoma, so on this day I decided to stop - to find a story in there. It was a beautiful fall day, and I thought I would just drop by for a leisurely visit. However, when I got there, a sign on the door read, "Closed for the afternoon. Drop by tomorrow."

I felt just like that little disappointed four-year-old boy. At first I just decided to leave, and then I began to see a story in there - patterns, repetitions, illustrations. Even though I had no words, I could only imagine the stories that belonged to that beautiful setting.

I bet there's a story in there!

And a couple more in there!

And bunches of stories in there!

This past semester, my middle daughter took a photojournalism class at college. She learned all about patterns and color and composition. She said, "To think, all these years, I've just been taking pictures!" And to think, picture books are cute. What I really think is that we all have a few important four-year-old lessons to learn about life. There is a story in there!

Dianne ; )

Just So Aimee Lou

The first attempt I made to write a children's story was Just So Aimee Lou. It has been read by friends and family and has been shared with hundreds of children in various settings. Aimee, my oldest daughter, is twenty-eight-years old; however, when I wrote the story, she was eight. Twenty years ago! Even though she is not as "just so" as she used to be, she is still pretty high maintenance. She just recently bought a charming cottage. During the moving in and renovation process, I definitely caught glimpses of just so Aimee Lou...especially when it came to deciding on paint colors.

Now, I really see that eight-year-old come alive when people come to visit. Aimee walks around with a coaster in one hand and a cleaning wipe in the other! Because she lives so close to the beach, sand is always an issue. I won't even begin to describe her high maintenance mania when it comes to sand in her house! She genuinely wants her friends and family to feel comfortable in her home, but she also wants everything to be "just so"!

Keeping everything just so is another one of those tough assignments. A couple of weeks ago, I went to have new tires put on my vehicle. I was talking to a guy about the maintenance on my car and how expensive it was to keep up. We got into a discussion about maintenance, in general. "Our whole lives are about maintenance," he said. "It's maintenance for our cars, our kids, our houses, our pets, our bodies! It seems like we spend our entire existence just trying to keep everything going. We even buy burial policies and life insurance, so that we can keep on maintaining after we're dead! It's exhausting! Dental check-ups, batting practice, oil changes, laundry, homework, flea treatments, weeds and flowers, gym workouts, air conditioning filters...it never stops! And here I sit, getting new brake pads on my car. Maintenance is like a drill sergeant; just when you think you have finally caught a break, there he is screaming in your ear!"

Wow! I thought, this guy needs a vacation. Or did maintenance just whisper that into my ear? When I had my two younger children one year apart, maintenance took on a whole new meaning. I was the editor of a newspaper, and I couldn't juggle all of those "just so" balls; so I traded in my writing pens for diaper pins. If you are really high maintenance in one area, the other areas of maintenance will suffer, such as friendships, hobbies or careers. I know. I completely dropped off the radar when I was maintaining the lives of three children under eight.

TODAY'S BIG STORY: World War III again...for about the tenth time this week! Matt and Katie are taking full advantage of their rank as terrible two-and three-year-old toddlers. Today they broke Barbie's neck. Yesterday, they tore out the parts of Aimee's books that they didn't like and colored the rest. I've tried shutting the door to her room, and they still find something of hers to destroy. Aimee has always been such a neat child, keeping everything clean, organized and in its place. I think Katie was pretty much following her example (through Aimee's strict indoctrination!) ...until Matt came along. That's when he began his campaign of mass destruction, and Katie was recruited in no time at all. So, the peacekeeping mission continues with me in the middle!

JUST SO AIMEE LOU

In the small town of Center Ridge
lives a girl named Aimee Lou;
Aimee Elizabeth, to be proper,
but Aimee Lou to me and you.

There is one thing about Aimee Lou
that everyone must know -
when it comes to her room, her clothes and her toys,
everything has to be just so.

She has a place for everything
and keeps everything in its place.
When something is where it doesn't belong,
she makes an awful-looking face.

You see, Aimee Lou was an only child
until she was almost eight;
then something unexpected happened
that seemed absolutely great!

Aimee's mom came home
from the doctor one day
with the most wonderful news,
"A baby is on the way!"

A little sister, thought Aimee Lou,
who will be just so like me,
and always put everything
right where it's supposed to be.

And a little sister she was,
a baby girl named Katie Bea -
Kathryn Beatrice to be proper,
but Katie Bea to you and me.

Those first six-months were fun
for just so Aimee Lou;
then one day her mother announced,
"I've got another surprise for you!"

I went to see the doctor
for a check-up yesterday.
I can hardly believe the news myself!
Another baby is on the way!"

Wow! Another baby,
thought just so Aimee Lou.
This time I am sure
that only a boy will do!

And a baby boy he was,
a little brother named William Matt.
But after the first year passed by,
this one turned into a brat!

Matt went through the house
like a wrecking machine
and made the biggest messes
Aimee Lou had ever seen!

He tore up all her favorite books
and broke all her pretty dolls;
he pulled out all her shoes
and wrote on all her walls!

Day in and day out,
he tried to drive her crazy!
And there was one thing she knew for sure -
BOYS WERE JUST PLAIN LAZY!

Worst of all,
if all that wasn't enough,
he was teaching just so Katie Bea
to do all that rotten stuff!

Then one sunny afternoon,
they were playing outside.
Matt climbed up the ladder
and fell off the slide.

His little head was bleeding,
and his tiny jeans were torn.
Aimee remembered all the times
she wished he had never been born.

While Mom called the hospital,
Aimee lowered her head.
She walked to her room
and knelt beside her bed.

"Even though he tears up
everything I own,
without Matt around
this house just won't be home."

Aimee Lou and Katie Bea
sat quietly with Dad and waited.
All Aimee Lou thought about was the Matt she loved,
not the brat she hated.

At last, Doctor Phil announced,
"Matt is okay! He just needs a few stitches,
some chocolate ice cream
and a new pair of britches!"

When Aimee Lou saw Matt
with messy ice cream in his hand,
she knew there would be times
he'd be more than she could stand.

But at least she had learned a lesson
that everyone should know -
there's more to this life
than keeping everything just so.

Dianne B. McLaurin. Copyright, 1990.

I have just started blogging this month. This is my third and final attempt, because blogging is so high maintenance. Sometimes I only recognize high maintenance as that "just so" unforgiving friend. My "just so" friend never lets me off the hook when I drop the ball. Even now, if I forget to call one of my kids before a difficult college exam or forget a family member's birthday or just forget to pay a bill, my "just so" friend pays me an unrelenting visit. Still, I want to give blogging one last try, even if I mess it up occasionally. Maybe that's what we all need to do: Hide the coasters, take off the white gloves and allow a little sand into our lives.

Dianne ; )