I arrived home from work irritated about the debris in the street
Six bags of garbage, a toddler’s ride’em toy and a small basketball hoop
One bag of garbage is right in the middle of the road.
But when came inside this irritation was quickly replaced with a tale of woe
Closer to home.

My husband was visibly shaken.
It seems he opened his desk drawer and was poking around
When a small black mouse ran at his fingers. Ugh! A live mouse? I asked.
No, a dead mouse ran toward my finger chomping her teeth.
Why are all mice girls? I wondered.

But it is my husband, and it his story.
He got some heavy duty roach spray, opened the drawer and sprayed it a lot.
The mouse ran away; he thinks maybe it will be dead later.
Maybe its name is Roach. This might help.
So the next stop was the living room he told me.
Sophie, our mighty watch dog was watching a tiny black mouse.

“I thought she was dead,” He told me. But then I noticed….
She was holding a piece of cracker, eating it.
Making full contact with Sophie, who seemed interested.
Knowing Sophie she was hoping the mouse would drop the cracker.
“So you roach sprayed her?” I guessed.
“NO! I KILLED that one!” He said.
“How?”
“I threw a big book on it.”
“And it did not move?”
“It was eating a cracker.”
The exterminators who did not do a terrific job last week are coming back tomorrow.
The bodies are saved in a bag, so they can see “what kind of mice they were.”
I said to my husband, “What if it is a whole wedding party?”
“What if it is competing mouse colonies?”
“What if they get into our beds while we sleep?”
He ran off screaming.