The Mystery Of The Sugar Addict

Wow, so here I am, blogging again, after nearly six whole months! I'm really going to try to get back into the swing of things, but I make absolutely zero promises.

So, over the weekend, I think I got a nasty bit of food-poisoning, because early Sunday morning found me with my head hanging in the toilet, shooting my dinner out of my nose and mouth. Many of you already know that vomit and I are old friends, but this particular friend of mine was simply not welcome to visit over the holiday weekend. Go spend your holiday someplace else, please. Anyway, I normally bounce back from stomach bugs pretty quickly, but this one decided to linger for a few days. I was miserable, and although I wasn't throwing up, I just felt "icky".

Some of you may remember my tendency to salivate profusely when I was nauseous during my pregnancies. It was truly foul, in every way imaginable, but nothing seemed to take care of it, unless I was constantly sucking on candy of some sort. Well, when I was sick this week, I finally figured that one of the things that was making me feel so gross was the fact that I was salivating a bit, and swallowing it all. Ew. I know, it's weird that I tend to drool when I'm sick-- only my dogs do that! Anyway, I was trying to figure out a way to dry-up the drool that wouldn't require me taking a Benadryl (no need to add to my exhaustion). I was in the shower Tuesday night, and suddenly had a craving for Sweet-Tarts, knowing they would quench the saliva. I know, you're thinking, "You felt like barfing, and you wanted Sweet-Tarts?" I really must be Jarrod's sister after all.

So, Tuesday night, there I was, poring over three more chapters in "New Moon", popping Sweet-Tarts like they were the latest drug. All I have to say is thank goodness for the kids' leftover Halloween candy! Oddly enough, the candy really did hit the spot, although I skipped the green and yellow ones, because the taste just wasn't working for me. All in all, I felt a bit relieved of "the ick", and managed to fall asleep a little after 10:00, despite my recently-attempted sugar overdose.

Wednesday morning, I awoke, pretty much good-as-new, which was a welcome change to feeling like I'd been hit by a semi-truck the day before. I called my Mom to tell her about my "magic Sweet-Tarts" and of course she couldn't believe I could stomach something like that when I was feeling so ill. I guess your body just knows what you need, even if it doesn't seem all that logical. By Wednesday night, I was chatting on the phone, feeling nearly 100%, when I noticed that some of the green and yellow Sweet-Tart leftovers were missing off of my nightstand. I didn't think too much of it really, and just figured that I had knocked them off in my sleep or something. I curled up to read a couple more chapters of my book, and went to bed around 11:00.

At about 12:15, I awoke to hear the rustling of the empty cellophane Sweet-Tart wrappers on my nightstand. I didn't think too much about it at first, since I sleep with my ceiling fan on, and they could've easily just been blowing around, but then suddenly I was fully awake, realizing what had happened to the discarded candy next to my bed. Mouse. Crafty, sneaky, and most importantly, ballsy little mouse.

Last month, a mouse broke into the cabinet on my nightstand to try to gorge itself on the corn inside of my microwave-corn heating pad. I used the live trap to catch him within all of twenty minutes, and deposited it back outside. I know you're thinking, "What is the matter with you? Why didn't you kill the little sucker?" I just can't. I had all sorts of pet rodents growing up, and it just seems wrong, so I use the live trap to deliver them back into the wild. Call me crazy all you want. Anyway, I thought I had figured out from where the mouse was entering my room, and plugged it with steel wool (absolutely fool-proof, in case you didn't know that), and since then, I have heard no gnawing, tapping, or seen any signs of rodents anywhere. As a precaution, however, I've kept the live trap baited in my nightstand, but I hadn't had any visitors so far.

Crafty, sneaky, ballsy little mouse.

This mouse-- this particularly smart and brave little guy, ventured not two feet from where I was sleeping, not once, but twice! Not only that, Kooka was laying on the floor at the foot of my bed, so this mouse must have apparently been slightly suicidal in addition it being a sugar addict. The strange thing is, I haven't so much as seen or smelled any signs of a mouse anywhere. I should probably clarify that I can smell a mouse in the house before the little stinker even decides to make an entrance, so the fact that I haven't noticed any odor is a little puzzling. More importantly, there are absolutely no droppings to be found, anywhere. Hmmmmm....

I began wondering if it was even a mouse at all. Maybe it was a very discreet alien. After all, E.T. had a weakness for Reese's Pieces, so maybe I had an alien invasion on my hands. It was entirely possible. Another possibility, without question, was a candy-hungry gnome. Jarrod blames gnomes for any and all unexplained phenomena, so these circumstances could certainly fit gnome criteria. Pesky gnomes. And if it really was a mouse, then maybe this mouse possessed super-high-tech stealth equipment, which he used to cover his tracks-- kind of like Batman. Or should I say, Batmouse?

Jarrod, don't say it. I know what you're thinking. It must be the Cockamouse.

Whatever it is, I don't have the heart to trap it and toss it out into the bitter cold. It clearly possesses high levels of intelligence, not to mention sheer guts, so I have to respect a creature like that. I mean, I'm starting to think that, whatever my candy thief may be, it may just be smarter than me. Creepy. Therefore, I have no intentions of angering it in any way (or its evil minnions, for that matter).

So, if you don't mind, humor me and take the poll on the right-hand side of the screen as to who/what you think the Sugar Addict is.