Wife giving 5 year old a bath last night
Sam: *playing in tub and clearly not listening to mommy*
Wife: “Sam! You peed all over the toilet again! I am tired of cleaning it up! You better start wiping off the seat when you are done!”
Wife: “Did you hear me?!”
Wife: “What did I just say?!?!”
Sam: “I peed on the seat.”
Sam: “Wipe it off?”
Wife: “Right. So, what are you going to do next time?!?!”
Sam: “Keep doing it.”
*He had clearly gone back to not listening*
Lunch conversation yesterday between Me, Wife, and Mother-In-Hell, about the upcoming Tornado Alley Roundup in St. Louis
Wife: “A weekend in St. Louis will be fun. I’ve never been there before.”
MIL: “You have. We just didn’t stop.”
Me: “That’s how all my visit were. I’ve driven through St. Louis several times, but never went INTO St. Louis.”
MIL: “Oh Liz, you’ll love it. I remember when I saw the arches for the first time.”
ME: *blink, blink*
MIL: “In St. Louis.”
Me: “I think you were at McDonald’s.”
*clearly she doesn’t remember seeing “them” for the first time.*
While at lunch, my wife says that she is sure we have a mouse.
The dog has been camped out by the piano for hours, whimpering.
No worry, I say, because we still have the Live Traps I got last time we had a mouse.
I go home at lunch, bait and set the traps, and return to work.
Wife texts me to say that the 5 year old just brought her one of the traps, asking what it was.
When I get home, I go about resetting the trap, which the dog later sets off again.
In the meantime, the wife and I begin a thorough clean up and inspection of the area.
She finds bedding and mouse turds. I find little plastic toys it has been trying to eat.
Yep, we have a mouse.
I get out the vacuum and start sweeping the area behind the piano.
The dog is standing close by, like she’s about to get a treat.
Just then, I hear a thud.
I turn around in time to see Godzillamouse running at me.
I scream like a little girl and start running in place, because I’m a manly man.
My wife breaks into uncontrollable fits of laughter.
The dog is still looking behind the piano, and completely misses KingKongMouse as it charges Pamplona style, intending to devour my leg and ego.
At the last second, by the grace of God (or because it was frightened by my studliness), it veers into the kitchen and under the stove.
A thorough search of the stove yielded no mice.
This morning, the traps were still set.
So far, the overpriced Live Traps have caught a 5 year old and a dog, but no mice.
In my defense, here’s a picture of TerminatorMouse from last night.
As you can see....Mice are sucky spellers.