Meg crawled into bed with us at 5.30am. That was ok as I'd been awake all night singing Abba songs in my head. She'd been lying listening to a scraping noise for hours and had finally got a bit worried. I said it would be the wind, but agreed to come up and sleep in the spare bed upstairs in their room.
The wind had dropped, but it wasn't long before I could hear the scrape, scrape noise too. Wanting to reassure my young daughter I whispered, 'OH MY GOD, THERE'S A POSSUM IN THE RECYCLING BIN IN THE CAR PORT!' So we shot back down the stairs (disturbing the household) and crept up to the back door window to peep out, expecting to see a bushy tail sticking out the bin. Nothing. 'It's on the car port roof!' Back up the stairs to peer out the window. Nothing. The scraping continued, but having exhausted my own imagination (mice in the wall cavities? No, don't think we HAVE cavities), and been of no help to Meg at all, I finally dropped off to sleep and left her to ponder alone in the calm manner which she had been doing before I got in on the act.
Checked for possum poo in the cold light of day, suspicious gnaw marks on the fabric of the house, etc, etc.........nothing.
No comments:
Post a Comment