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The nastiest thing happened in my bed

This post may not be as salacious as you might think…

I sleep with a woobie. In the cold months. And my husband doesn’t mind.

What, you may ask, is a woobie? It’s a loaf-of-bread-sized bag of millet or buckwheat covered in a flannel casing. Ours were made by one of my students years ago. Pop one in the microwave for 3 minutes, and you have warmth. Warmth on your lap for a cold drive in the morning. Warmth under your shirt when your core needs heating up. Warmth for cold sheets on a chilly night.

I had two woobies.

One night I found one of them shredded underneath my nightstand, its guts spilled all over the carpet like puke in a frat house. Know what this means?

there's a mouse in my houseA mouse has moved into our house.

Surely my other woobie, my favorite one with black-and-white-and-pink cows against a blue sky — surely this one is saved. After all, I slept with it last night and left it in my bed, under the covers. Safe and sound.

BUT NO! THE GOLL DARN MOUSE GOT TO THAT ONE TOO! Chewed up my woobie IN MY BED! And left some TURDS for me as added injury.

Nothing like a changing the sheets at 10 pm. And muttering curse words all through the process.

Needless to say, the exterminator has been called. There’s no mercy for varmints who invade my space and ruin my woobies.

Except for my children.

Have you had to deal with unwanted critters seeking warmth in your home this year? Have they caused any casualties? What measures do you take?

Lori writes regularly at about her dealings with many types of critters large and small, namely her husband, Roger and their children Tessa, 10, and Reed, 8. Her family lives in wilds of the Denver-area.

Images: MS-Office