It occurred to me that I forgot to finish my mouse story. My bad. How dare I neglect a chance to give you, my dear reader, an opportunity to laugh at my dumb ass? Bad Dessie!
Anyway, back to my latest round of stupidity. After my sleepless night, I go home. The honey is not yet home, and there is no way I am going back in the house with the possiblity for mouse bits laying about, so I wait on the front porch. After about 45 minutes, the honey calls home and tells me it is going to be another hour at least before he gets home. It's starting to get cold, and I forgot the latop at work (tells you how tired I was, right?), so I decide to go inside, and brave the mouse. I figure it can't get to me on my bed. I lay down, and start to take a nap, because by then, I am tired as hell. I get all comfy, and start to drift off, when McGonagall BRINGS ME THE FUCKING MOUSE!!!!!!!!!!! ON MY BED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
He was so proud of himself, and wanted to show mommy his kill. I got up and ran back out of the house, as fast as I could. (Yes, I was clothed this time, thanks for asking.) I sat my ass on the porch and waited for honey to come home. He came home and was struggling to contain his mirth at my completely irrational fear of something the size of my palm, but got rid of the ebil mouse. After I washed all the sheets and blankets in the hottest water I could come up with, all was well.
Its a good thing I adore my Mighty Hunter, because otherwise, I'd have made him into a kittyskin hat for making mommy loose a night of sleep.
