We were driving home. It was dark. Very, very dark. Which is why I didn’t see it until the headlights from a car going the opposite direction illuminated our dashboard and, with it, the mouse that was scurrying around in front of me.

The mouse. In front of me. In the van.

I screamed, the kids woke up, and I nearly jumped into Rockford’s lap. I don’t think Rockford believed me the first two times I saw it. (And screamed.) (And nearly jumped into his lap.) But then he saw it himself. He was not phased. By the time we got home, I was in the back with the kids and Mr. Jingles was running back and forth in front of Rockford, hiding under his hat and sniffing a little stuffed soccer ball in the window.

Rockford found this amusing. I remain horrified.

I will not be getting in the van again. Not until Mr. Jingles moves out.