Essay on A Funny Incident

A Funny Incident

One day at school, our Biology teacher drew a circle on the blackboard, added a tail supposing it to be a mouse and began to teach us about it. The moment I saw the drawing on the board, an idea struck me immediately.

After class, I planned with my friend to collect wild mice and sell them to earn some pocket money. My friend happily agreed. We selected our attic as the best place for making our mice farm. We decided to keep it an absolute secret till we succeeded in our mission.

Not long after, we smuggled a can into the attic and put wire mesh over the top to make it a perfect mice cage. The next day being a holiday, we spent the day in the nearby woods in search of wild mice. We caught quite a number of mice with our traps.

We were so happy to be able to catch so many mice as then we could successfully carry out our plan. We silently stole upwards in order to stealthily transfer those mice from the traps to the cage that we had made and kept in a hidden place in the attic. As we reached our destination, my friend stood ready with the tin cage and the screen cover.

I turned the first trap upside down and tried to shake the mouse out. It would not budge. I peered in. That was a great mistake that I made. The mouse shot out onto my hand, ran up along my arm and down my back, then leapt into a pile of boxes, where it disappeared.

We searched frantically, but all was futile. We had no time to waste. Grabbing the second trap I again gave it a good whack and the mouse popped right into the tin. But as soon as the mouse hit the bottom, before my friend could put the screen cover it shot back up the slightly slanted inside wall, jumped onto my friend’s hand, leapt across the room and disappeared too. We exchanged bewildered glances.

The third effort, more carefully thought out, was successful and with fascination we watched the mouse scampering about. Then very carefully we tried the others. Successful in our mission, we gleefully tiptoed downstairs. Later that night, as I was watching TV with my parents, my mother jumped up and ran to the kitchen. She came back puzzled.

She informed my father that she had heard some whimpering in the kitchen and ran only to find that there was a mouse scampering about. She was worried and enquired as to how the mouse could infiltrate her kitchen like that.

My father said that it was impossible for any mouse to enter the house unless someone brought it from outside as the house had a strong foundation. I began to feel uneasy. Before the conversation could be carried on any further, I slowly slipped out from there.

As the days passed, my mother became really worried, concerned and puzzled at the sights and sounds in the kitchen. Before things could further deteriorate, my mother declared that we had to search the whole house to find the source. I trembled, worried whether she meant the attic too.

I was doomed. As soon as my friend arrived, we bolted for the attic. The rodent ranch had to go outside till things cooled off. I carried the tin to the attic window, the only escape. I waited nervously while my friend climbed down the stairs and reappeared at the open window. I lifted the tin to the window but it was barely big enough.

My friend clutched the bottom of the tin firmly and gave a violent tug. Off came the screen cover! The mice exploded here and there into the cellar. In a few frantic moments they were out of sight. My friend realised the gravity of the situation and fled as fast as he could, leaving me to face the consequences.

I slinked downstairs to face the inevitable. Reluctantly, as I entered the living room, my mother announced that it was high time to start looking for the source of the mice. As soon as she said that, one darted out into the centre of the room and vanished under the couch. Another zipped past her feet.

The rest of the night was a chaos. Here a mouse, there a mouse, everywhere they made their presence. All yelled and swatted but nobody was able to catch a single one. Lying in bed I was torn between the desire to confess and the joy of having escaped detection.

As time passed, the mouse invasion faded away due to my parents’ intervention. Only recently did I have the nerve to confess to my mother that it was me who was the culprit. Confession is always good for the soul.