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Tim the Mouse

The mouse is back. At 12:30 this morning I was awoken by the tell tale signs of the darn thing munching on chips while watching the science channel. This is the channel my husband falls asleep to each night. Either because he wants to convince himself that he will somehow become much smarter while sleeping, or because of the sleezy infomercials that are on at five when he gets up for work. I imagined Tim (this is the name the kids gave the mouse) postured on the electronic mouse deterrent thing we have in the window sill, kicked back, munching the snacks that my kids snuck into my bedroom while I was cleaning up another of their messes downstairs. I took a book from my nightstand and chucked it at him, but my aim is just not the same since that mascara incident in ’93. This did not phase Tim, but it did wake my husband. Being the calm, take charge person he is, he decided to play The Mouse Whisperer and make that “ch” sound. Surprisingly this did not work. By this time all I could think about was how much time out of my “trying to remain un-ugly” sleep was just taken, so I went downstairs and got him a pop tart, a much quieter snack choice.


 

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