Egads!

Another spectacular new development this week: mouse turds. Spectacular.

I don't think I can justly articulate my all-consuming fear and loathing of tiny furry creatures, mice and rats in particular. Those tiny bug-eyed vermin strike terror in my soul, and so it went yesterday when I opened the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink to find three errant poops.

J was in the living room cleaning in preparation for his parents' arrival. I beckoned him wordlessly into the kitchen.

That MFer wasn't even surprised, you guys. Yeah, he said. I thought I saw some last week.

(!!!)

So he set the traps we keep in the cupboard (we've had a mice or two before, well in the past), and I shook my head at the universe. I mean, that is one straight-up fucking genius way to keep my ample ass out of the kitchen.

Around 8 last night, H feel asleep on my lap and J meandered into the kitchen. And he didn't return for a few minutes. When I crept towards the room he smiled guility.

What? he asked, grinning.

One down.

This morning, H was up bright and early, and he went downstairs with dad as I was throwing on my sweats.

You stay here, I heard J say to him. Daddy has to take care of something.

That's two.

And so we wait. In the meantime, I have this handy post-it placed strategically in front of the sink.

Remember.

As in, remember not to open this door lest you see horror beyond your comprehension that haunts you for all eternity.