"A moose in the hoose!"
A neighbour lady, who recently immigrated from Scotland, once said this to Mother. Mother worried that this was serious. (At the time, we lived in the far North where moose were common.)
Sister understood. She explained that the woman had "A mouse in the house!"
We have a mouse in our house. (Or had.) Upon finding droppings in the kitchen drawers, we emptied them into the dishwasher and set a trap. The next morning I left a note for The Commander. . .
No mouse
No bait
We tried again. This time, The Commander used pliers to grip the cheddar much more securely. At about 10:30 PM, a loud "Snap" came from the kitchen. The trap did it's job.
We'll continue with the trap until we're certain no mice remain. I hope it's soon, because I want to get the cleaning done and enjoy cooking without searching through temporary storage for every item I need.
What I've learned from this: Humor is profoundly fickle.
While setting the mousetrap, I accidentally triggered it and received a painful reminder to be more careful. I did NOT think this was the least bit funny but The Commander almost split his sides laughing. I don't know what hurt me the most, my sore finger or my damaged ego.
Yesterday, The Commander lost focus while setting the trap. This resulted in a painful finger, an entertaining dance accompanied with lyrics that turned the kitchen air blue. Meanwhile, I became folded in half with laughter. I couldn't help but think that if the mouse saw his performance, it would leave on its own for a house with saner inhabitants.
And what about tomorrow? We learn from our experiences. No matter who sets the trap, we'll do it when the other is occupied elsewhere.
Cheers, PW.
P.S. I envy those writers who manage to make a living giving Marriage Advice. It seems like a simple enough formula: Recall life's petty annoyances, reflect on how they reacted, and compare what worked with what didn't.
