Friday, March 10, 2006

I hate the meeces to pieces...
A couple of weeks ago Michael was cleaning the pantry because we have seven years of crap to separate and he’s more organized than I. He was pulling some stuff out from the floor (coolers, ice buckets, fifty million “Go Heels!” plastic cups) and there were little black pebbly looking things in the bottom. Being a calm, rational, and laid-back fellow, Michael said, “uh oh.” Since I am not calm, rational, or laid-back, I shrieked like a panicked five-year-old. Hysteria ensued.

Me: “Is that MOUSE DOODIE?”

Him: “It might be.”

“IS IT??”

“It could be getting in through that space behind the fridge.”

“But the exterminator comes once a month!!”

“Yes, he does. For bugs.”

“How do I get rid of it?”

“There’s bait that makes them thirsty and they have to go outside for water.”

“But then it will come back in! Or drink the water in Miss Kitty’s bowl!”

“I don’t know how the bait works. It makes them go away.”

“I want it DEAD!”

[pulling a box of batteries and candles from our emergency shelf] “Looks like he’s been here too.”

“That’s it. I’m buying a gun.”

Yes, that is rational thinking for me. Yes, would kill a mouse given the opportunity. Yes, I know it is absurd. In my defense, I am a really good shot. However, I probably would not be able to hit a mouse .

So instead of allowing me to play small game hunter indoors, Michael checked all of the baseboards and put a new one behind the fridge where it looked like our furry friend had access. And there have been no signs of critter visitation since. I have been discussing part-time employment with The Cat, just to be on the safe side, but since I haven’t mastered Russian and she’s dumb as a box of soap flakes, it’s taking longer than I thought.


  1. I think you are much more rational than I am. Ask David about the time I HEARD a rat in my a/c closet. I flipped out, ran out the door and was in my car before he even knew what was going on. Again...hilarity ensued.

    God help us if we were to encounter a rodent together. We'd probably beat each other to death in a fit of wild panic.

    Call an exterminator straightaway. You can never be too secure!

  2. In the car with the doors locked, I'll bet.

    Once when I was a kid I woke up and a little field mouse was on my nightstand (we lived in northern NJ). I freaked out so hard my mother told me it was a dream and didn't tell me it was really a mouse until I was an adult.

  3. Your cat is so cute!!! You should teach it to catch the mousie though, that's what cats do.

  4. What is this about separating 7 years of crap?

  5. we've got a himalayan-ish cat who hunts lizards ("great toys, but they break down pretty quickly and you have to get a new one"). a couple months back he showed up on the porch proudly displaying a rat about half his size. wanted to bring it in the house, too. Thing was, cat couldn't figure out what to do with said rat. couldn't/wouldn't/didn't kill it. just sorta played with it, traumatized it, slobbered all over it, then got bored with it.

    left it in the laundry room for me.

    i recommend a baseball bat.

  6. Separating seven years of crap: Michael bought a house! So now he wants to live there. It's less than a block up the street, so I decided it would be OK.


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