||[Oct. 30th, 2008|12:53 pm]
Whole lotta labia.
We live in a farmhouse on a farm. Nature happens all around us. And sometimes, despite our best efforts and no matter how clean we keep the counters, we get mice. We put out traps, we deal with them for maybe a week, problem solved for another year. Let's clear one thing up right now: I have nothing to prove to anyone about being hard core. I deal with spiders, bugs, snakes, you name it. I came to Pennsic nine and a half months pregnant. I am plenty hard core. And I believe in the equable division of labor. So I fix the plumbing and rewire the lightswitches, ST empties the mouse traps.|
We're in the midst of this year's battle right now. ST insists that there is a black mouse, not big but definitely black, that comes out all bold. Based on the fact that we've only gotten grey mice so far he has deemed the black one to be the ringleader. He insists that the Sleek Black Bastard (that's St's name for him. Not mine.) is sending out the grey ones and then coming out after they are caught in the traps to roam the house with impunity.
I have not seen this Sleek Black Bastard. I think ST has possibly lost his damned mind.
Last night in the kitchen. We enter mid-conversation:
Me: .. so I said-OMG OMG OMG!
ST: What? What?
Me: Dead mouse on the stove! Please get rid of it.
ST: Is it the black one?!
Me: I don't know, it's just dead and on its back so could you please get rid of it?!
ST: Dammit! It's a grey one. He's just sending out his underlings to taunt me.
Me: Honey.. is it possible that it was just the lighting and that there is no-
ST: Stop! Don't say that! Don't even think it. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.
Me: ... .... Steve? Did you just compare the mouse to Keyser Soze?
ST: I think he might be on that level of diabolical minds, yes.
Me: I'm totally going to bed now, crazy man.
ST: You'll see! One day I'll get that sleek black bastard and you'll see.
Lost. His. Damned. Mind.