This winter we had a wee mouse problem. So, we set up mousetraps all over the place, and tried to remember to check on them each morning. We caught a lot of mice, and our rodent infestation abated. Or we thought.
On Friday, our new computer arrived. It’s a big, bulky (but brilliant) desktop, and setting it up involved moving of furniture, shuffling of home goods, and most importantly, finding a place to plug everything in, along one wall.
Ever the helpful spouse, I hoisted one of our bookcases forward, so we could access a power strip laying on the ground.
And greeting me was a mouse. In a mousetrap. Its wee body snapped in half, dead, apparently for many, many months.
I squealed, and went into a hyperkinetic fit. Brendan, inexplicably declared that I would have to get rid of the many-months-dead mouse.
“I’ll even let you blog about,” he said, trying to offer a token exchange. I continued to squeal, retch and generally throw a hissy fit. He wouldn’t have it. He just went on stubbornly setting up the computer, while the dead mouse stayed on the ground. Finally, I relented, grabbed a couple of plastic bags, and picked up the mouse and mousetrap, gagging.
I had to tug a little to get it free from the floor, which didn’t help my anger factor one bit (I have said this before on this blog, and it’s unfortunate I have to say this again, but, at least it didn’t smell).
Anyway, this blog post is Brendan’s comeuppance.
(Photo: Kelly A on Zooomr)