Rodenticide ...

So, you may or may not have heard about our little mouse problem we’ve had for the past 4 months or so. If not, basically, my wife saw a mouse walk across our living room floor, she freaked (Mariah Carey was jealous on how high my wife was able to scream), stayed over her parents’ place for 2 days, called an exterminator, and paid the guy $500 to tell us that he didn’t see any mice ..., oh, he did put some traps around the place (basically, just little boxes with poison in them), and gave us some advice on how to “secure” our house.

In the past 4 months, we’ve seen a mouse on a handful of occasions, which, of course prompted the same glass shattering yelp from my wife. One time, I was so fed up with the mouse, that I got a hammer, and started hammering the closet floor in the hopes of splattering the varmint. I missed him, he took off down the hall, and my glasses flew from my face. Thankfully, this moment of comedy was enough to calm my wife down.

We hadn’t seen the mouse since … until last night. We were in our basement after a busy night of hanging with family and friends (two different get-togethers). We had just gotten new furniture for our basement (my wife says our basement no longer looks like a college dorm … sigh). We were hanging our, unwinding, watching some tv, listening to some music, and having a few final beers. My wife initially noticed a foul odor coming from behind the bar … weird, because I was nowhere near there. I went back there too, and smelled it – I immediately thought that our mouse friend had finally kicked the bucket, but we couldn’t locate him (I thought that maybe he died underneath the bar).

I went back and sat on the couch, while my wife continued inspecting … then, she unfortunately found it … I could tell because of the blood that was flowing from my ears thanks to a shriek that wolves in the Poconos could hear (eminating from the throat of my wife). The mouse had indeed died, but that wasn’t the funny thing (wait, is that even funny?). The location of where the mouse did was ironic, and quite hysterical. The critter kicked the bucket on the picture of ham that my friends at Lockheed had purchased for me (it wasn’t on the wall, because my wife had accidentally knocked it off the wall a few months ago). It goes to prove my point about how disgusting ham is.