Imagine if you will that you do not like mice. Yes, they are small, yes they are furry, but they have beady little eyes and a long tail, and they leave little gross gifties for you to find everywhere they have been. They procreate more than rabbits and spread all sorts of nasty disease.
Now, imagine if you will, that you attend a church that is in the middle of nowhere. A corn field sits in front of it, and on one side. Pasture surrounds the rest of the church. It is the middle of winter three years ago, and you are sitting in Sunday School, listening to the teacher. She pauses, looking at the floor directly beside you. She quietly but urgently says “CC, don’t move.” Of course, you look where she is looking only to see a mouse, scurrying directly to your feet, and begin to climb up your foot.
- Kick it off, like it is no big deal?
- Jump up and and try to stomp it?
- Give into your primal urge and scream bloody murder, scaring the teacher and all who are in your class, never putting your feet back on the floor for the rest of the lesson?