Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Mouse Trap

We had a smart mouse.  It would leave small traces of itself around the kitchen or bathroom, but our attempts to catch it were futile.  We finally had to call pest control.  I started thinking the pest control company had hired the mouse to torment us for business.  The mouse was finally caught, but with our own traps and not until after we paid $75 for pest control to come out and lay out more traps.  Lesson learned…pest control won’t do much more than you can already do for yourself. 
But it was a good lesson.  My husband, you know the animal rights carnivore that he is, didn’t want to hurt the mouse.  You know how he found a pack of baby squirrels and hid them in our closet because he knew I’d be furious, but his heart was so broken that the mother wasn’t around that he couldn’t take it anymore.  I had squirrels in my closet.  He reluctantly, (other options?), took them to the animal shelter where I am sure they nodded with agreement while my husband pleaded their case.  “Sure, we’ll feed them and nourish them and get them on their way.”  He left satisfied while they probably chucked the box of squirrels in the canal behind the shelter.  So he bought mousetraps that would keep it alive until he was able to set it free outside.  I’d say—what, so it can come back in?  Let’s just make it a bed while we’re at it?  He couldn’t bear the thought of killing it, but after months of finding torn this and poop that, he agreed—we have to get rid of the mouse!  And we had to be serious about it!
So I bought a bunch of those old fashioned, Tom and Jerry mousetraps.  Amazing how years will pass and some things don’t change.  I’ve never used one, but they are simple contraptions that can be figured out after watching just a few cartoons as a kid.  My husband was hesitant and a little uneasy about putting them together, but I assured him it would be no big deal.  Never underestimate my husband. I’m sitting on my lounge chair in the den, and I can hear my son and husband in the kitchen.  They are working together to get these mousetraps ready to lay in wait for their intellectual victim.  The way they were talking I imagined them with their heads together, one doing the work while other did the coaching.  “Okay, careful now, pull it back, don’t let go!  Okay, pull and clip…there!  Okay, be careful…careful…easy.”  Oh good, one down only eight more to go.  I thought, See?  You CAN do it…easy!  Just load and pull back the clip. 
Then I hear them again…oh dear.
“Okay, now gentle, gentle, set it down…oooh!  Careful!”  I sat up.  

No, they weren’t.  They didn’t.  I didn’t have a comment because I didn’t want to believe it. 

“Gregory….are you putting the peanut butter on AFTER you set the trap?”
“No…we are using cheese.”
Cheese?  Okay, now I know he’s stuck in a Tom and Jerry cartoon only Tom was smarter by putting the food on FIRST.  He’s got my son holding the trap while he sets down a piece of cheese, gingerly, with the hope that the trap doesn’t go off on my son.  I look around the corner to see for myself that this was happening.  They both look up at me and realize their erroneous ways so apparent through the sheepish look on their faces, which turns to embarrassment…and so they should be!  Despite my call out of their backwards methods, I still verbally instructed them in case the obvious to me wasn’t obvious to them—Put a bit of peanut butter on the plank THEN set the trap. 

Lucky for them, the mouse fell for it.  

Greggy Part 2

I wish I could share with you the wedding of my oldest daughter three years ago.  This is a child I cherish beyond words, so for me to give the details on the wedding might break her heart so I will refrain and save the story for my personal journal.  However, I can share with you my wedding...which happened a long time ago, in a land, right here in Fresno, sort of. 
Back to Greg...Greg and I dated for 3 and a half years, which in Mormon years is FOREVER.  I wasn't allowed to mention the "M" word to the guy, though I could never figure out why this virgin wouldn't jump on the chance to get married and do the married thing (no puns or irreverence intended, it's just the honest truth.)  We'd been Disneyland fans from day one, and during one random visit, he popped the question on the bridge in front of Sleeping Beauty's castle.  He'd carried that darn ring box in his sock achingly all day...what a trooper and romantic.  I said yes right away, we took pictures (strangers willing to snap them of course) which ended up being exposed by a child I love dearly and will no longer continue to punish with my ever-resentful reminders..but it was a happy day.  I remember feeling light as air, I even allowed people to cut in front of me in the lines, whereas any other time I would've "handled my business."  We married 6 weeks later--ah, there's the awakening of the virgin. We should've waited a few months to get married to give us time and money to have a decent reception.  Since my dad and sister had been married that year there wasn't any money left for a reception.  But Greg was not waiting any longer than he had to.  Alas, we had to have an open house.  No biggie...Greg didn't even WANT a reception--huh!  Imagine how I, the bride, reacted to that.  So here's how lame the open house was.  First, the invitations we picked out were meant for people on their 3rd and 4th weddings...completely unconventional, non-traditional, didn't mention the names of the parents so half the invitees were like--who is this again?  Next, we had to have it at my mom's house.  No we had to serve some local Mexican fare on plastic silver burritos I think was all.  Dumb, we weren't Mexican, no Mexican theme, where did that come from?  Burritos?  No fruit, no cute frilly platters...burritos and punch.  If you are like me, the food is the driving force behind any function attendance.  BOMB!  Then, I wanted a chocolate cake--again totally non-traditional.  But hey, I like chocolate.  We had a vanilla sheet cake for those weirdos that don't eat chocolate (they should be dragged somewhere and...)  My hair was flat and my make-up practically gone since the wedding was in the LDS Oakland temple, and we had to drive 3 hours back home right away to the reception.  I looked like some lady out of a 1950's catalog whose photo shoot got cut at the last minute because thankfully some other photographer pulled through with a REAL bride.  Of course, it was a mess...half of Greg's family wasn't there...or more than half.  It was too foggy for anyone to want to drive who was over 60 years old.  My nail broke on my ring finger so showing my ring in any photo was a tossed sentiment.  When we finally got to the hotel room it was so awkward I don't remember any of it except for the lone bath I took in the suite's tub.  And yet, here we still are, been together for 20 years and not much has changed except that I've broken Greg down enough to not be embarrassed to buy toilet paper.