As I'm innocently checking my email (and yes, it's way too late to be checking email, but I was wasting time waiting for the cloth diaper laundry to be ready to rotate), the hubby is taking out the trash. And then ever-so-kindly rotates laundry for me before I can get there.
And then, Jeremy, in shorts only (and its cold outside), says "I'll be in the garage...".
I pause, scratch my head, and obviously said, "Why?"
"Oh, you know, because there's a mouse..."
Pause and cue the freak-out!
So he tells me that when he took out the trash, he noticed a mouse behind the trash can, in the garage.
I then, obviously, realized that if there's a mouse in the garage, there are probably 15 more in the house... and I ended with something along the lines of waking up the baby and packing my stuff and staying at my parents while Jeremy mumbled, "I knew I shouldn't have told you."
He said I was overreacting and that it was just one little mouse, who was seeking warmth in the cold and he was going to shoo it outside (in his shorts, mind you).
And then I said something to the effect of if I find mouse droppings tomorrow, I'm not coming home for a week...
And he slipped out the door while I watched intently to make sure the sneaky mouse didn't run in as soon as the door cracked.
So there's my mouse story for tonight. Oh, and the end? I don't know yet, he's still out there shooing... And I'm still inside, freaking out!
I don't do mice. Period.
1 comment:
I feel like I should buy you a pet mouse now. Just so you know, mice can't cause humans much problems. The only way they can do anything is if one bites you, which strangely tickles and usually doesn't give the mouse it's desired effect.
Post a Comment