Little Steve & The Earthquake

Very early one morning, I woke up suddenly to the unexpected feeling of our whole house shaking. My husband is one of those who can sleep through an earthquake and that’s exactly what he was doing when I grabbed his shoulder and said, “Wake up! The house is shaking!”

Not ready to get up yet, he muttered, “It’s okay. It’s just Little Steve…”

In order to explain to you who Little Steve was, I first need to tell you about Big Steve.

In those days we referred to our next-door neighbor as Big Steve, not because he was unusually big, but because he was a whole lot bigger than Little Steve, who I’ll get to later. Big Steve worked tirelessly on home improvement projects. Not a day went by where we didn’t see him pressure-spraying, sanding, painting, wood-working, or meticulously cleaning or renovating part of his home. It was incredible! When it got dark outside, right when you’d think Big Steve was going to leave his project for the day, BOOM! He’d bring out a giant spotlight that allowed him to work late into the evening. I’ve never seen a person with a stronger work ethic. He painted his entire house by himself and did it well. Impressive! And one time I saw him pressure-spraying a big rock in his front yard. A rock! That’s like cleaning a tree—a whole new level of home improvement.

My husband and I both felt utterly lazy compared to Big Steve—especially early on Saturday mornings when the sun was barely up and the power-saw was already going strong. I’ve never felt like such a slacker. Because how can you comfortably sit around, drinking coffee in your pajamas and easing into the day when you can see Big Steve right outside behaving like a one-man construction crew? —knowing perfectly well he’s gonna keep it up all day and into the night.

In those days a squirrel had taken up residence in our attic. He was a busy little guy. In fact, we came to believe he worked just as hard as Big Steve. He gnawed on things (I often fell asleep praying it wasn’t electrical wires), he dug into insulation, he scurried, and thumped, scrambled, and scratched. So we named him Little Steve. Naturally.

Now back to the day our house was shaking like a leaf. My husband said, “It’s okay. It’s just Little Steve…” 

“Little Steve can’t shake the whole house!” I responded. My husband sat up and looked disoriented. Who wouldn’t be? Because it would take an ENORMOUS, hard-working squirrel to feel like an earthquake. 

Just so you know, it all turned out fine. And also, just so you know—we extracted Little Steve using a humane trap that looked like a cute little house and released him way across town MANY times… Because it turned out there was a whole multigenerational family of Little Steves up there in the attic. 

We no longer live in Little Steve’s house, next door to Big Steve. But I do find myself wondering from time to time what Big Steve has been up to since we moved. Probably a whole lot. And the same goes for the squirrel(s) who inherited his name. 

I hope you’re all having a happy and productive week. And if you have any Steve’s in your life, try not to do the comparison thing. Instead, just ease into your morning with a smile and let Steve be Steve. 

~Amy