I'm going to pull an EmmaSometimes---I love this post and have wanted to re-run it so she has given me a good excuse. This post was from five or six months ago---the day we moved into our new house in the country:

Mole Murder

The kids were voicing to me about how "bored" they are. Seeing as how we just got back from the pool, this made me ill. So what did I do? I got out a bucket, Murphy's oil soap, and a rag and said, "mop the floor." I made them get on their hands and knees and everything. I must say my floor is nicely clean now. They actually enjoyed themselves too.

I didn't know that living out in the country was such a crazy thing. The first day we got here the kids were playing outside and found a mole. They wanted me to look at it because they were not sure what it was but I was certain that some killing had to be done. I went outside and sure enough there was a mole, just up from the surface, playing dead but twitching a little. I told the kids to wait for a minute and I went inside. I asked Dear Sir, "So, aren't moles harmful to the yard and the irrigation? Should I kill it?"

"Yes, kill it," he said.

I went to the shed and got a shovel with a point on it and went to where the mole was and where the kids were standing all around it. "It dug its way back inside the ground!" the eraser-eater yelped.

"I'll find him," I said. I dug my way a little and sure enough found him just below the surface of the soft earth. I had him on the shovel. He continued to play dead. I set him down on the ground and hacked at his middle. Blood went all over the shovel and gushed out of his mouth. More like shot out. The kids jumped back in disgust. The eraser-eater (my middle boy) whimpered a little and wailed how he thought I was being mean by killing the poor mole.

"Bad for the yard," I said, "I just bought this house too."

"Who cares about the house!"

I dug the mole a little shallow grave and put the earth back on him.

"That poor mole!" The two youngest ones exclaimed.

I felt bad but knew that it was right and meet to kill the mole. Amen.

I went inside. "Did you kill it?" Dear Sir asked.


"Good, don't tell me about it," he said.

The next day I caught the kids outside. They were all huddled around the old grave of the mole. The eraser-eater was placing what it looked like a number of rocks on the ground.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a little mad.

"We dug the mole back up and re-buried him," the boy whined.


"Yes, and we put these stones here to mark his grave so that we know where he rests," he said.

"He needed a proper burial," my oldest blurted out.

"Did you touch it?" I could barely contain my anger.

"She did--" they pointed to my girl, "but we didn't really."

I marched them all inside and told them how horrible it was to dig up some dirty animal and touch it. I made them all wash their hands thoroughly.

Then the two youngest (Eraser Eater and the girl) proceeded to take the rest of the evening to play "mole." They closed their eyes and crawled on the ground saying, "We're moles! We can't see!"

And Mommy hacks at us with shovels.


Redneck Nerdboy! said...

You just hacked at it like that? Goodness gracious! It takes most people years to overcome their squeamishness of country livin' and kill a mole.

However, I have some good recipies for using mole if you ever come across one again! They're good in stews.


Funky-Redhead said...

I am impressed and somewhat envious. I want to kill bugs..but I can't. I would want to kill a mole too...but I couldn't. I guess I have pest control envy?!

Badoozie said...

OH MY LORD, i can't believe you were repulsed by my storm trooper, and you're a MOLE HACKER. BLOOD THIRSTY KILLER. i'll never be the same again.

R said...

Redneck---yes, I did just hack at it like that. Whenever I tell this story people are "disturbed" by my "ruthlessness". It is funny because I would tell the story because the kids acted so funny about it----and no one can get over the way I ACTED!

I just did it without thinking, really. It was my knee-jerk response, if you will.

Funky---why can't you kill things?

Susie---It was "bad for the yard" and I "just bought the house" that very day. Don't mess with me, apparently I am good with a shovel.

Funky-Redhead said...

Why can't I kill things? I really don't know...It's not like I believe in re-incarnation or anything. ( Have you seen that commercial for tissues? Where the monk blows his nose, and then learns that the tisues kill 99.7% of germs?! Funny stuff!) But, on some sick level I identify. I think it has to do with "texture!"
Great! now I need therapy! I have texture issues! You know, like the sound and feel of the "crunch," of a bug, and I can only imagine what it would feel like to be a " mole whacker!" EWWW! But, like I said, you go for it! Cause' I feel like an idiot when my daughter is able to just stomp on any bug for no reason, and drag her shoe and bug guts across the pavement, without any remorse. And I am left to stand there in sheer amazement at her ability to be so non-chalant about it!

R said...

Texture. Hmm..
Flesh and exoskeleton texture?

That is a little strange, but I think I get what you are saying. But I like the sound and feel of the crunching of bugs (only if I intend to kill them because they are in my house). It is almost like revenge.

The mole, however, I did not really want to kill, but I did not even think about whether it would feel weird hacking it in its middle, or even whether it would feel pain. I just thought that I had to be rid of it and I did not want it in my yard. I sort of regret a little that my kids stood around me, but it is a bit hard to tame three when they are morbidly fascinated. At least they think that I am not a wuss. I have had to make my peace with touching things like bugs because my Oldest is scared to death of them and I want to show him that they will not hurt him (with the exception, of course, of a black widow).

I have sort of an unused rule of no killing bugs if they are outside. If they are inside, kill away. My daughter and I are the only ones around here that have courage to take a tissue and squish things. Everyone else runs away or uses bug spray.

Funky-Redhead said...

Funny! yeah, this is the only time I use the ole' damsel in distress call. Usually call hubby to deal with any extermination.