I’d never cut it as a serial killer.

It came out of nowhere, there was nothing I could do. I stopped the car.

“Shit! I’ve just hit a squirrel”

“Oh well, just drive away” said The Eldest.

“I can’t just drive away for goodness sake”

I turned the car around. There was already a lady standing over the lifeless corpse with a car mat in hand poised to pick it up.

“I hope it’s dead” she said “they can be nasty little buggers”

It was dead. The nice lady parked it by a tree and gave me a hug.

“These things happen” she squeezed and disappeared as quickly as she’d appeared.

I get back into the car where The Eldest simply cannot believe what has just happened.

“Why are you so upset?”

“It was alive and now it is dead because of me”

“You eat cow though don’t ya?”

Fucking smart arse.

Anyhoo, fast forward to a note in The Youngest’s school diary the following week.

Sorry to hear of your accident this morning, I hope you are ok.

Signed by teacher.

I wrote back that I hadn’t had an accident that morning but I thanked her for her concern.

Oh, your daughter said you had run over a squirrel and that Mrs Whites had given you a hug.

Turns out my mystery squirrel mover and hug giver was a dinner lady at The Youngest’s school. Small world huh?

Tonight, three weeks on from the murder, myself and The Youngest are driving home from the supermarket. The Youngest leans over and whispers in my ear.

“Mum, you killed a squirrel”

I’ll be honest, it was more than a little creepy.

“Did you run over a squirrel in the car then get a hug from a dinner lady?” asked The Husband.

He thought The Youngest was telling fibs, it sounded made up the way she told it so he thought he’d check.

“Yes, for the love of biscuits YES! I KILLED A SQUIRREL! Have you got a problem with that? You eat cow don’t ya?”

 

 

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