By Lisa Scottoline
I think I need to do my laundry more often.
Let me explain.
As you may know, I live alone.
As in, I’m celibate.
But I digress.
Since it’s just me, I don’t generate a lot of laundry.
I barely sweat.
Did I mention I’m celibate?
And also, in winter, who sweats?
Usually, I’m bundled up in fleece tops and sweatpants and from time to time, I even sleep in them.
TMI?
Get ready.
I’m about to air my dirty laundry.
Literally.
In any event, I don’t have a lot of laundry.
And when I do, I just throw it in the washing machine, which I use as a hamper.
When it’s full, then I run it off.
I don’t do it more often because I have a job.
Also, I’m trying to be ecologically sound.
Okay, I’m lazy.
I’m probably doing laundry every two weeks.
So the other day I decided to throw something in the laundry and run off a load, but inside the machine was a visitor.
A mouse.
He looked back up at me, and his expression said, “Took you a while.”
I replied, “EEEK!”
Worse, he was sitting among mouse droppings scattered over my laundry like chocolate jimmies.
Please tell me you know that’s the sprinkles they put on ice cream.
Now you’ll never eat them again.
Anyway, the mouse was alive, but barely.
I got over the initial shock, then I realized I had to get him out of there, so I got a saucepan and put it inside the machine, and trapped him. Then I put the lid on, ran him outside, and set him down in my backyard at the edge of the woods.
There’s a stream back there, too, in case he got thirsty.
And has GPS.
Anyway he scampered away.
I’m guessing he was looking for a lady who has sex.
So, happy ending.
I’m a good person, but a bad housekeeper.
I went upstairs and threw away the laundry that had been in the washing machine.
By the way, there’s a drainpipe that goes into the back of the washing machine and runs from outside the house, so I’m telling myself he got in from the outside.
That’s a better story than he was already in the house.
I can make up anything I want to.
I write fiction.
The whole thing grossed me out, but I consider myself and the mouse lucky.
I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened in the dryer.
All’s well that ends well.
And what’s my lesson?
I’m not doing my laundry more often.
But I’m gonna get a screen on that pipe.
Copyright © Lisa Scottoline 2025