So there I was, sprawled out in my lavishly comfortably bed, sleeping like a very tired baby, totally oblivious to the conscious world and dreaming about the Easter Bunny playing poker in an Afghan war camp with Frank Sinatra and four thousand tiny one-footed unicorns. Suddenly, mother bursts in and startles me. "A mouse, a mouse, A MOUSE!" she shrieks. "Get the Easter Bunny to deal with it" I muttered and turned over.
Eventually she got me up and I trudged downstairs to find my stepfather with his head buried in the radiator waving a potato masher and the cat standing behind him with the mouse in its mouth. So I made sure both the cat and its breakfast went back outside and toddled off back to bed to find the unicorns had fled the camp and Frank Sinatra was munching on a double-crusted pepperoni pizza. Odd.