Senior journalism major Ellen Fishel is a typical college student — except she lives with five boys.
Breaking news: A house full of five college guys is not clean. I manage to cope with the mess mostly through avoidance — I stay out of the kitchen as much as possible and couldn’t even tell you the last time I set foot in the downstairs bathroom.
But I put my foot down any time I think the mess is leading a potential pest problem, be it fruit flies, ants or the occasional mouse. We’ve luckily never had a big problem with visiting critters (knock on wood). But nothing could prepare me for the events of one night this summer.
All I was trying to do was make some Texas toast one night. But as I innocently pulled the toaster oven away from the wall, what I saw next potentially scarred me for life.
There was a squirrel in the house. I repeat: Squirrel. In. The. House.
At the first sight of a bushy tail, I managed to trap the squirrel back behind the toaster oven. I then proceeded to scream, freak out and run to curl up in the fetal position on the couch in the other room. A little dramatic, perhaps, but I hate anything that even remotely resembles a rodent.
Next, I went into full stereotypical damsel in distress mode, a card I don’t play often but take full advantage of when I do. Tim came to my rescue, but in his less-than-sober state, he was unable to apprehend our visitor.
The squirrel escaped from behind the toaster and, much to my horror, scampered across the floor and up the stairs. What usually gives me solace when things get too messy or testosterone-heavy is my ability to retreat to my second-floor sanctuary. But there was no such escape when I was imagining a squirrel nesting among my pillows.
So I took advantage of my guy protectors once again and sent Tim upstairs to investigate. After a fruitless search, he determined the squirrel must have left out my open window. But I wasn’t about to take any chances, so I camped out on the basement couch for the night, complete with a barricade of pillows against the door.
The mystery of the squirrel was never really solved. We determined it came through a hole in the kitchen window screen, but why it chose our residence and where it went after remains unknown. What is certain, however, is there is never a dull moment at the house. And that I’m lucky the guys let me be a baby sometimes.
