Today I found a mouse in my glove.
I hate mice.
I found one in my boot once – I was barefoot when I put it on – something squishy in the toe – shook out my boot and there it was. Ack.
ACK!!!
This time I put on my glove (you know those big, cheap (not the work kind) winter ones) – and my middle finger pushed up against something soft, squishy, and a little warm. My first thought was “How did that guinea fowl manage to poo in my glove?” (we currenty have a guinea in the house – named Glen…. or maybe Glenda… I can’t tell.)
Then – YUK!
– I hate mice – I shook out my glove – nothing.
So I started to work it out of the finger by squeezing it like a tube of toothpaste – more yuk – when it finally came out – there it was – small; barely alive. I wonder how long it’s been there? Did it get there on its own or did one of the cats toss it there? Well, like I said, I hate mice – I tossed it out into the snow (I’m still too much of a coward to kill it outright – God forgive me) I figured it wouldn’t take long outside; I’d heard that freezing is not altogether unpleasant.
I prayed for forgiveness.
