I’ve just found out that we have mice in the wall between the living room and the front porch and have completely lost all ability to reason, concentrate, and hold my bladder.  Just the thought of the little suckers in my house scurrying around with their little claws and whiskers makes me want to shower over and over and keep my baby from playing on a the clean floor in the middle of the room. 

Because for goodness sake, if they’re in the walls they might as well be everywhere.  My dreams tonight will be like a scene from Indiana Jones….not that Harrison Ford doesn’t make a regular appearance in my dreams (one wink would have me convinced to wear my hear in two buns) but the rats however are a different story.  

I inherited my deep and abiding love for vermin from my Dad.  I once saw him leap 3 feet in the air from a dead standstill as a little field mouse ran out of the garage and between his legs.   Lord help me if I actually see one because I’ll lose all my senses and buy a cat…a big one….real mean too. 

Needless to say tomorrow morning I will be hauling my dear sweet blue eyed baby out into the subzero temperatures to buy a load of the latest and greatest in vermin termination.  That’s right PETA, I intend to kill every mouse within a 100 yard radius of my living room wall. 

Until then I’ve posted a sign outside that reads: Literary and Cartoon Mice only…all violators will be exterminated.