"Yikes!!!!!!!!!!" Terry ducked behind Sarah.
"Mom!!!!!!!!" Sarah scooted from in front of Terry and ducked behind her mother.
It wasn't that the two of them hadn't seen plenty of trash piled up before in the kitchen and family room of a foreclosure property, but it was the first time they witnessed what we now call the "Mouse Olympics."
Yes, there were mice hopping here and there like running hurdles (and running over each other). Some were leaping over bags as if they were high jumping them, and hopping off one another like they were running a relay. But the most spectacular mice were those springing off bags to leap up onto the counter like triple jumpers and pole vaulters.
Oh boy, what fun, but it was time to go into the living room where the two were greeted by a fairly filthy carpet marked with with two letters in red crayon: F U. Strategically placed between the letters was a bottle full of a pungent yellow substance. Dah....it wasn't mouse urine.
Sign, sigh...okay, so off to another room...
"Hey, mom, ahhhh, check out the kitchen refrigerator," Sarah said, gasping for fresh air that at the time didn't seem available due to the copious amount of rotting food.
"We can handle this," Terry commented as she doned a pair of rubber gloves and scooted by Sarah to get to the refrigerator.
"Oh my...," Terry began as she opened the freezer compartment. "Sarah, get me a box!"
There in the freezer compartment awaiting Terry's gloved hand was a stack of three very dead rats. Terry didn't bother to wait for a box and insinctively flung them out the door: one-two-three.
"The trash out crew will take care of the rest of this place," Terry said tossing the gloves out the door with the dead rats. "Let's go!"
And go they did, but they would be back!
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