Merry Mouse-mas to me

I have been reminded, along with other friends, that I'm being a blog slacker. Ok, it's true. I have been thinking about it. I need to blog, I should blog, but I have a little secret. Some of you already know it. I have become an addict. It came out of blue, I had no idea I could be so easily lured.

What am I addicted to? Not crack, thanks. It's not soap operas. Thank God. At this point, it's not perscription painkillers. What is it then?

YAHOO POOL!!!!!!!!!!! Yes, yes, I know. How silly. I'm so addicted that I've joined the league in Sweet Melissa. Apparently I'm a bad influence cause I got my friend bethie into it, and now I'm working on Kristen. Maybe we should start a new league, the bitchclick. ;o)

For those of you, that know I spend way too much time online already, you will be happy to know I actually cleaned yesterday. In fact, I even bleached the tile floor in my bathroom, it's so white you'd think it's your grandpa's legs next to black socks. I'm working on the clutter today as well. I think I deserve a new car. Come on do gooders, I'll take the crossfire.

And why was I bleaching like crazy yesterday? Well, after I got back from Leota for Thanksgiving week, my oldest daughter informed me that she has pinworms again. Uh, ew. *scratches self* Why must this child get every nasty, virus, parasite, & green-finger-pus-infection known to man kind?

It sent me scrurring about into a cleaning frenzy involving bleach madness, hot water laundry lysol, excessive hand washing of the OCD kind, and more bleach. Then if that weren't gross enough, (did I mention the pharmacy was out of stock with some of the meds, apparently there's a pinworm epidemic in my town?) the next morning I come downstairs to find one of my cats has a furry little friend in its mouth.

At first I thought, how cool. These cats play lost and found. We lose the toy mice, they find them. Then I noticed the other cat, circuling about, like a greedy hungry lion too lazy to get off its arse to hunt, leaving the lioness to do the work instead.

Garfield (formally known as Chatty Kathy before we noticed it had a sac) was warning us all with a low demon-like growl that it doesn't share.

"Oh my gosh, oh gosh. Richard!!!!!!!!!!!! Richard, help me, help me. There's a mouse, a real mouse..ohhhhhhhhhhh gross, oh gross."

"Not its not. Lemme see. Oh, right on boy. Look at that, you caught a mouse. Isn't that great, Melissa?"

"Great is a word I would hardly use right now. Try nauseating. Just do something. Do something. Get rid of it!

Hey, that's ok. Keep your No hard feelings here, you can't have all the mice you want, so long as you kill them before they start crapping in my pie pans.

Kathy D says it's not that bad, they are actually pretty cute. I'm not convinced, a matter of fact, I was ran jumping and squealing like a total crazy woman as the cat lunged towards me showing of its new toy.

"Get that thing away form me!! Richard stop him. Don't let him touch me!!"

"Oh shut up, Melissa. Get a hold of yourself. "

I stood on top of the couch-- whimpering-- as I watched Garfield continue to run around in circles with his prey hanging from his mouth. Scrawny little feet with little razor claws dangling just above its nasty little tail. God only knows what cest pools its been in recently. Oh, the horror. The cat is never licking me again!!

Every few minutes he'd drop the dirty thing, and bat it about to watch its legs to move. Yes, the disgusting, plague-ridden beast, uh mouse was still half alive and moving.

"Would you stop crying like a baby and get down here to help me?"

"Uh uh. Nooo way. He might come near me. He's not giving up that mouse any time soon. And, that's ok. He can keep it. Just as long he kills them before they start crapping in my pie pans."

Something had to be done though as my cat must have a sadist side. He wasn't about to finish him off. Today, I learned half dead mice are the best toys. Funny, the pet store never mentioned that while they pimped out the neon pink, jingly mice knock offs made in china. Why waste money, when your cats can have the real thing I say.

If they won't hunt & kill inconspiciously, (must I know that I have mice?) dispose of the vermin properly (leave them on the neighbors porch), then what good are these tabbies anyways? It's just disgusting! I shudder just thinking about it. It's beady little eyes, with its wannabe cute little nose don't fool me.

I feel no mercy for those disease carriers. In the case of Jerry's cousins I say, TAKE NO PRISONERS!! I have cleaned up after enough poop in my lifetime. (not withstanding my own) Finding crap in my silverware drawer invokes murderous anger in this otherwise sweet docile girly girl. Yes, its sad I know. To want to kill such a tiny, innocent creature. Uh uh, innocent by butt.

I'm convinced that mice and rats might be tools of the devil. Think I'm sounding mentally unstable do ya? Well does the black plaque ring a bell? Hmm? How about hanta virus?

I'm guessing it hitched a ride with the christmas boxes from the garage. Come to think of it, I have been hearing scratching & scuttling in the walls for a bit now. I even told Richard. He thought I was making things up to sleep with the light on. (Don't make fun, I know I'm not the only one)

Ewww, all this time the beast have been sleeping right above me. *scratches self*

It's all good now though. Richard rescued me from having to finish off the botched murder my cat attempted. I wasn't in any condition that's for sure.

Not whenI shook & shivered with girlish vulnerability, knees knocking together--standing on top of the couch screaming--"Sweet mother of God. What is happening here? Oh-dear- God, nooooooooooo. Wuhhhhhyyyyyyy Lord? Why meeeeeeeeeee? What's this madness!!? First worms come out of Snoo's arse. Now I have mice? How much skankiness can I be expected to indure in one week?"

Yes, that is true. Yes, it's very pathetic I know. Every woman should have a hero husband as sweet as mine. Yup. His chivalry was evident as he laughed uncontrollably at my expense when carrying the filthy thing to the trash. wrapped, in its papertowel coffin.

Never a dull day I tell yeah.