Freakin Out

I was in the bathroom this morning drying my hair. Suddenly the door bursts open and Dillon comes storming in, forgetting the rule about being quiet so as not to wake the baby. He had been in my bedroom getting dressed for school when he swore he saw a mouse. He said it was black and furry with a tail and that it was running around daddy's shoes. True or not? I am not sure. Morning eyes can play tricks on you, especially in a room as poorly lit and cluttered as mine seems to be at the moment. Either way, I feel grossed out and a bit violated that my personal space could be tainted in such a way. If there is a mouse, it must die!