So late Sunday morning the family unit decided we wanted Wendy's chicken nuggets. Okay, that's a lie, we all know my wife doesn't get up before noon on Sunday. So Sunday afternoon, we were sitting on the couch. We look at each other and knew; it's nugget time. So rarly do we agree on food choices this quickly; it was imparitve we embark on our nuggety journey with haste. It was pissing the rain outside. As we happily rolled down the road, not a care in the world, nothing but nuggets on the mind; fate intervened. I was driving, lazily watching the wiper blades go to and fro. My wife sitting beside me suddenly screamed. If I wasn't such an unemotional douche I would have been frightened of the scream myself. It was the kind of scream that makes your balls suck so far up into your body that you think you have four kidneys. Known for hyper-reacting to everything, my wife had really went for it this time. I simply turned and requested an explanation; I was perfectly polite. She was now squatting on the chair, not touching the floor of the car. The floor is lava! She exclaimed she had seen... a mouse!
I am not an eye witness to the mouse. I didn't see the mouse. I will try to describe the beast using the details I took from my wife's rambling. The rodent, almost mythological in proportions, reached a massive length of over ONE INCH! That would make its fangs almost half a millimeter long. The demon creature has it out for my wife; she fears it will escape the car and enter the house in the night to murder her in cold mouse blood (kind of like how Mickey Mouse likes to sneak into Marvel Studios at night and rape Spider Man). The rain was still beating down when my wife demanded we stop so she can evade the evil mouse's advances. We soon came the the small gas station on our road and stopped under the cover. The wife leaped from the car and began to ramble on and on about the rodent and her hatred. At one point I think she slipped into tongues. Maybe the rat used its ESP to invade her mind. After a furious search, I found no sign of the mouse; at all.
After enduring several odd looks from the patrons inside the gas station (probably because we were both still in sleep clothes, walking around our car with all the doors open, stooping down looking under the seats and ramming an umbrella under them in the middle of a monsoon) I convinced the wife to get in the car so I could take her home. I still wanted nuggets. She perched herself on the seat, still rambling on and on about her phobia of mice. We pulled into the drive way and she again tucked and rolled out of the car and stormed into the house. After I calmed her down, I went back and and bought mouse traps and nuggets. I enjoyed the nuggets greatly and the mouse traps are still in the car. On a side note, because she won't drive the car, I get to drive it. My car doesn't have an air conditioner and hers does. Aces! No mice have been captured as of the writing of this blog.
Visit again soon for her version of the story...