Sure. I admit it. I'm afraid of mice. I've had a hate/hate relationship with them for years.
There was the time when I was 16 that a mouse invaded our laundry room and taunted us for days. Knowing my utter disgust at having a rodent in my living space, my "loving" parents decided to place a lifelike toy mouse on my bed to "surprise" me. While still in the midst of screaming, my "loving" Dad tossed the mouse into my hair. He has yet to show remorse and hence he has yet to be forgiven.
And then there was the Jerry that stalked me and my roommates in our Boston apartment. We trapped that sucker in our oven and tossed him out our fifth floor window to the alley below. A fitting farewell.
Of course, I can't forget the time when Drew was a wee babe of 4 weeks old and Jerry streaked across our living room. Seeing an imminent collision between my tiny newborn on his blanket and a tiny, filthy rodent.....I jumped on my couch and shrieked, "My baby! My baby!" Leaving Drew to the mercy of the mouse. Thankfully, Jerry took a U-Turn. (True story. Sad. But true.)
Fast forward to the time in Connecticut when Jay was outwitted and outplayed by Jerry the conniving Triscuit thief. Due to Jerry's superb display of strategy and strength he was dubbed Mighty Mouse. He had some gumption and a strong will to live but Jay prevailed...barely.
And since the rodent kingdom knows that my life couldn't possibly be complete without at least one Jerry rampaging through my house....I've been sent one in the cupboard under my kitchen sink and the adjoining cupboard that houses my griddle.
Until they evolve enough to invent their own form of mousey diapers.....they'll never go undetected. And therefore, they'll always be ruthlessly hunted when they taunt me with their evidence.
Enter Jay.
Jay and his traps......that he forgets to check before he leaves for work!!! All I wanted to do was get the dishwasher soap. Instead I'm confronted with Jerry dying a slow death on the glue trap and Jay is enjoying a rodent free day at work.
So as I write, Jerry is splayed out like a skydiver face first onto a bed of glue. And what's worse? I know he is alive. If I hear any sort of a ruckus or little rodent squeak coming from underneath my sink, I'll grab my children and bolt.
Knowing that Jerry is on his way to little rodent purgatory, I shall write him a farewell letter.
Dear Jerry,post script: Lest my posterity think I am a rampaging mouse killer....this letter was written in good fun with a satirical bent. (Some random crazy guy left a comment about how I am a horrible person, hence this post script is written.)
I am not ashamed to admit that I don't give a hoot for the torture and suffering you are going through. I'm actually quite pleased knowing that your little rodent brain, the size of a speck of dust, is trying to figure out how to unstick yourself and still keep some fur for the cold winter ahead.
The reality is that we just cannot coexist. Not ever. You do things that are unforgivable!
You pooped on my griddle!
How am I supposed to eat Saturday morning pancakes knowing you've defiled it?
Let this be a warning to all your other Jerry relatives...YOU'RE STUCK! There is no way out of this predicament. It was your greed and total disregard for other people's personal property that landed you in this sticky mess. You did the crime, now you get to do the time!
My husband will be home in several hours to place you in your final resting place. I suggest you use this time to think about what you've done!
Sincerely,
Marilee
2 comments:
Better be careful. The last rat I caught in a sticky trap chewed his leg of and hobbled away, leaving a bloody furry trail.
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