Poor Guy…
I was minding my own business this morning, fixing some oatmeal for my strong (but chilled) snow shoveling man, when said man gave me a bit of a shove. I was about to get all cranky about what was clearly an undeserved shove, when I followed his gaze to a very small, very furry, very dead mouse peeking out from underneath a kitchen cabinet MERE INCHES FROM WHERE MY FOOT HAD BEEN. It would appear that the Terminix man is pretty good at his job.
It’s kind of sad in a really twisted way. The little guy was pretty cute. All I can hope is that Stuart Little’s friends aren’t missing him too desperately, as they should all be equally dead, preferably someplace a little further from breakfast.
Speaking of the Terminix man, before he ever came out to the house I spoke to him on the phone to schedule our appointment. I can’t remember the guy’s name right off - I guess it’s not important. Anyway, when he actually got here Adam answered the door. Babyface must have thrown the guy for a loop. ”Hey Son, is your mom home?”
4 years ago • Notes