Disney Doesn't Live Here Anymore

Yesterday we trapped the mouse that lived in our kitchen. We used one of those have-a-heart traps that keeps them humanely caged until you’re ready to deal with them. So yesterday morning, over coffee, we’re looking at the mouse and discussing our options.

Ironically enough, the trap directions suggested drowning (have-a-heart my butt!) I pointed out to the husband that it would be wildly hypocritical NOT to beat the crap out of someone who is actively trying to rob your house, but to drown a mouse, who was just going on about the business of living.

I then suggested that we take the mouse down the street and release him in a vacant lot.
“But what if he finds his way back?” husband wonders allowed.
“Babes, this isn’t Disney, and Timmy didn’t fall down a well!”