My cat was on the hunt!
Something behind the drapes!
For the past month they’ve been invading my apartment.
And my cat always left the wolf spiders for me to kill.
The month before, it was crickets.
Many mornings, I’d find one poor little guy limping along with only three legs.
But the blurr I caught out of the corner of my eye seemed larger. Had more form.
What could . . .
Oh, dear God!
Not that I’m “afraid” of mice.
They’re just not squishable.
Yup. I can squish them.
Yup. Can squish them too.
But a mouse?
At least by me.
And so, it was time to call in a man.
But I’m estranged from my husband.
And even if I wasn’t, he would never kill a mouse.
He’d moan and groan and complain till finally I'd call an exterminator.
But now . . .
I can call the maintenance man at my apartment complex.
And he’s not allowed to moan, groan and complain.
At least to my face.
And if he does?
I can call and complain about him.
REALLY love that.
P.S. Called the maintenance man. The only thing he found behind the drapes was my grandson's little ball. Felt really stupid.