That Night

That Night

Sandy walked slowly down the hallway, she was so tired. It had been a long night, and she’d definitely drunk too much, again. Slipping out of her coat, and hat, she tossed them toward the closet. They fell short, but she was tired, so she just left them in a heap. When she was quiet, asleep, the mice came back out of the hiding spaces they had scurried to when Sandy came in.

“Look!” little Peppy said, suddenly seeing the coat on the floor. He ran to it, it was so warm, and soft! Bunched up as it had landed, like a fluffy giant hill. The rest of the kids ran over, followed by Uncle Phil. “We ought to get to work...” he said, but nobody was paying attention. The kids were all climbing up the coat and sliding down the other side, bumping into each other the whole way.

As Phil watched, he remembered being a child, and his few occasions to have fun. Suddenly he wanted his nephews and nieces to have those memories. Off he rushed. Coming back with a pillow, he fixed the coat so all the kids could slide, fast, and didn’t run into each other. They slid until exhausted, then happily went on to gather their food, like good mice.

When Sandy woke the next morning. She headed to the kitchen for a plate of needed food! There in the hallway, hanging on the doorknob was her hat, hanging on top of her coat, which was upside down and inside out. And at the bottom, on the floor... like a giant landing pad, a large pillow. Sandy gave up drinking on the spot. Consequently, she lived to be a hundred and three.

And she never did figure out that she had mice.