return of the [redacted] chipmunk!

Liam shows off his chipmunk-hunting prowess.

The boys and I were upstairs putting away laundry. We started in Max's room, put all his laundry away and made his bed with fresh sheets. So far, so good. Then I noticed that the vacuum cleaner was still out. I say "still" because Mike got it out over the weekend, intending to vacuum the boys' rooms and the stairs. I was feeling ambitious, so I enlisted the boys to help me move chairs and stuffed animals around so I could vacuum. Looking back, I can see that that's where we went wrong.

Not to be outdone, Max shows us what a tough guy he is too.

We were innocently going along, vacuuming toward Max's rocking chair, when a [redacted] chipmunk ran across the floor! It hid under Max's dresser, but then I kicked the dresser and the little [redacted] popped out, only to run and hide beneath Max's (freshly made) bed. [Redacted!] I looked around for something to trap it with, and came up with two options: a small pink grocery basket, and a slightly larger white wicker basket with a fabric lining. I chose the wicker basket.

Thus began the Great Chipmunk Chase of 2008. For 45 minutes (literally!) the boys and I chased that [redacted] critter around the room, leaving chaos in our wake. We pulled up the mattress and box spring and used them to block the doorway so it couldn't leave the room. We moved the dresser out, built book blockades around the bookcase, and generally ran around like some (even more) madcap version of the Three Stooges. Every time I turned around to pounce on the thing, one of the boys would suddenly be twisted around my ankles. Finally, the [redacted] thing stopped to catch its breath, so I waited at one end of the bed and had Liam kick the other end of the bedframe. Aha! I caught it! We were so excited. But then I tried to take off the liner and turn it inside out to have the chipmunk truly, well, in the bag. And it jumped out (but not before crapping all over the box).

By this point, we had somehow moved the box spring, so there was a gap in the doorway. And though we searched high and low, we couldn't find it. Great! It managed to get out of the room. So we took a flashlight and started looking under the furniture in Liam's room. I thought we would find it under his bed, but no. We did, however, manage to find a couple of other useless critters under there:

Dora

Greta

Eventually, I gave up. I was totally creeped out by the thought of the boys sleeping up there with a wild chipmunk running around, so I went back to Max's closet to get their sleeping bags to have them camp out downstairs...and the [redacted] [redacted] chipmunk raced out at me! I chased the damned thing down the stairs, boys in hot pursuit, through the dining room, through the kitchen, and finally I cornered it under the dresser in the bathroom. I had the boys searching frantically for a box in which to trap it, and finally I got a bright idea and had Liam get the cake carrier. Then we began a delicate operation. I held the top dome, while Liam thrust the bottom tray under the dresser to get the chipmunk to come out. Success, again! And this time I wasn't going to lose it, so I used a lifeline and phoned my dad. On his advice, we shoved a cookie sheet under the dome, then turned it over and pulled a quick switcheroo with the cake carrier tray. Then I took the whole mess out to the porch and weighted it down with a potted plant just to be on the safe side. Mike will have a nice surprise when he gets home, and I can sense a new cookie sheet and cake carrier in my future.

Yuck!

Oh, and might I add that Liam knows a few redacted words of his own? To be fair, I called the chipmunk a bastard during the heat of the chase ("Come here, you little bastard!"). "Mama, he's a bastard!" Liam repeated. He then added, "You know what, Mama? He's a frickin' douchebag." I definitely DID NOT say that, though young Liam had a point.