2. On Saturday night when I was upstairs with the twins I heard a scream from the living room. Tyce and Mary had been watching TV when they saw something scurry across the floor . . . or did they? Tyce tentatively pushed the recliner backwards to check and by the time I came on the scene--chaos and panic had gripped the townsfolk! Everyone ran like lunatics, brooms poised to kill, while an elusive Speedy Gonzales dashed under the closet door.
What's the first thing you do when an unwelcome rodent runs into your coat closet? Right. You set a trap.
First you fill a Duplo block with peanut butter. Then you take your cue from all the cartoon-watching you did as a kid; you prop up a box with a stick. Bait in box will soon equal mouse in box!
Then you wait. A really long time.
Eventually you drive to Wal-Mart to buy normal, don't-snap-your-fingers-off mousetraps.
But what you lose in comic creativity you gain in effect--the next day the mouse is caught.
(And the nature-lover among you cries.)
3. Tyce is trying out for the freshman football team. Last week they did drills and this week they're doing conditioning. I say, do your thing and do it well. It doesn't matter if it's band, choir, art, or sports, just put your heart into it and you'll be happy.
4. This weekend my football-playing, music-loving, all-around-great-kid turns 14! And the very next day he flies to Texas to see his grandparents. How fitting to spend the 4th of July in the Lone Star state.
5. We have a serious pigeon problem. It is disgusting. I don't care if they're relatives of Wenzie--those things have got to go. They mock me with their incessant stupid cooing. In fact, I found this letter on my front door:
I totally live over your front porch! Remember when I used to fly away whenever you opened your front door? Hoo, that was a long time ago, right? Now we have a sweet nest and four of my old friends live with me rent-free cuz they needed a place to crash for a few months. Thanks for letting us trash the place; I'd say we'll clean up before we leave but I don't really have the best track record for that, haha. Live and let live, right dude? Oh hey, could you guys keep it down at night? We need to get to sleep and Trixie can't find her ears to cover them up.
Seriously, what does "Poncho" expect me to do? I called the exterminator and it'll be close to $500 bucks to kick the aviary squatters out. I went outside, threw a couple of rocks into the eave and yelled, "Stop calling me DUDE!"
And then Poncho sent me a little "present" to add to the hundreds already dropped onto my driveway.
This is war.