FRIDGE MAGNETS

So, Farrah Bonnot's story about the rubber snake reminded me about the story about the fridge magnets.

It actually happened around the same time as the hitchhiker story; I was around fifteen and living with my parents. And there were these fluffy little critter fridge magnets.

Mom loved those magnets, but they drove her a little crazy, because my father and I had a habit of accidentally brushing them off the fridge in passing, accidentally; we were and are rather broad shouldered, and apparently, these magnets weren't real strong.

So Mom, as is the eternal lot of moms everywhere, habitually picked up these magnets and stuck them back on the fridge when she found them. Got to the point where she didn't even think about it.

And one night, she was making the rounds. Coffee set up. All faucets turned off. All light switches in the OFF position. Front door locked, side door locked, back door locked. All right, off to bed.

And she headed to the master bedroom, by way of the kitchen.

The lights were off, but she could see that a fluffy little fridge magnet had gotten knocked off, so she bent over, picked it up, and stuck it back on the fridge.

It fell off again.

She bent over, picked it up, and stuck it back, and it fell off again. She glanced at the fridge. Had the magnet fallen off? She picked it up again, and actually LOOKED at it, to see if the magnet was still on it...

At this point, your author enters the story, awakened from a sound sleep by a sound not unlike an opera singer being fed feet first into a wood chipper.

I leaped to my feet and ran into the hall, where I encountered my sister, who had heard it as well. We ran into the master bedroom, where my father was standing in the middle of their bed, with my mother wrapped tightly around his upper torso gibbering incoherently in Lovecraftian terror... while he patted her and tried to say "There, there," in a sort of strangled croak while also trying to loosen her grip on his throat.

We asked what had happened. My father mouthed "Hellif Eyeknow," while trying to soothe my mother, and we all stood there mystified. It occurred to me that she'd encountered someone while checking the door locks, and I ran around and checked them, and found them secure.

And then I detoured through the kitchen, and saw the fridge magnet sitting on the floor in front of the fridge.

My night vision is considerably better than my mother's. It wasn't a fridge magnet. It was a dead mouse.

I gave the poor little fellow a decent funeral, and retired to the master bedroom, where they'd successfully coaxed Mom down off Dad's shoulders, and she was standing on the bed, still jabbering incoherently, but somewhat more calmly.

"Was it the fridge magnet?" I asked. My mother shot me a look and stopped talking immediately. Everyone looked at me.

"I took care of it. Kinda freaked me out too," I said.

And Mom took a deep breath, and began to reassume her Momly demeanor. Dad gave me a look and said, "Give, kid," and I explained the discovery, and Mom was able... with long pauses... to explain the details of the story as listed above, the parts I was asleep for.

My sister went back to bed.

I asked if there was anything else I could do.

Dad smiled and said, "No, you go back to bed."

I didn't even make it into the hall before he started laughing hysterically. I had to give him credit; he waited, and hung on, teeth and toenails, until Mom was calm and okay and the disaster had been dealt with before he cracked up and collapsed on the bed, laughing like a loon.

And I heard Mom smack him a couple of times before I was back through the kitchen and into the other end of the house.

And this memory lives in my mind because it may have been one of the few occasions I ever saw my mother completely lose her shit...

...and it wasn't my fault.