close to home (subtitled: the dangers of anthropomorphism)

rodents are a consistent problem in my house. finding nibbled food in the cupboards, pellets of poop in the corner, and hearing noises coming from the kitchen in the middle of the night are some of the hidden perks of living in my apartment. however, exterminating rodents has become this year's overcome-fear in the way that last year's task was killing huge spiders.

this morning, i killed my second rat and fourth rodent (one mouse, one shrew and two total rats). the first time i drowned a mouse (the trap i have is a live trap that slams shut when the critter grabs the prototypical cheese) i felt like a terrible human being for killing a mammal. however, now i just feel a unsettling proximity to two of my favorite story books. the wrench in the well-oiled machine of overcoming this fear is children's stories.

i love reading story books to my students to illustrate lessons. it may seem silly, reading story books to ninth and twelfth graders. but you haven't seen their faces. the little child living inside all of us awakens, wonder returns to cynical eyes and the-almost-grown-ups hang on every word. two of my favorites are chrysanthemum and frederick. chrysanthemum is a lovely little mouse who is taunted at school for her unique name. when my students are taunting one another, i often begin my reprimand with, "what am i going to say?" "chrysanthemum..." they sigh, knowing that they have been mean like little victoria and ms. chud. frederick is a poetic little mouse who "gathers sun rays for cold winter days."

aman, one of my ninth graders, saw me in the hall this morning and said, "you look depressed, ms. humm." (thank you for this, aman). when i told him that i had to drown another rat this morning, he pronounced, "well, you killed frederick. or chrysanthemum, ms. humm. too bad."

it may have become easier for me to kill the little vermin, but i still can't help but think i am robbing a little mouse house of their poet, or their blossoming chrysanthemum. i would willingly house frederick, if he didn't chew through tupperware or shit all over my kitchen. stupid anthropomorphism.