My new TMI alarm went off (6.5 out of possible 10) when I tried to post this so you have to click *more* to read the actual post. Too Much Information warning, though.
Of late, the cats are into mouse asses. We’ll find a tail on our Welcome mat three to five times a week now, connected either to just an ass or ass plus hindquarters. Early this morning I fed the red cat then let him back out – usually he likes to stay inside several hours at this time of year – and no sooner had I closed the door than I heard him romping wildly on the front step. It sounded like he was lifting up the mat and slapping it back down, and knocking on the front door. So I looked back out. It was dark so I couldn’t see what he was playing with, but it looked as if he had a butterfly or something, the way he was jumping and twisting in the air acrobatically. I must admit that even then, mouse ass crossed my mind.
When it finally came time to leave, Beta and I went out to the car, I dumped some vegetable peelings into the compostable garbage bin and tried as hard as I could to ignore the fresh mouse ass on the welcome mat. But Alpha is home today with a sick Gamma anyway, and I just couldn’t leave it for her. So I picked it up by the tip of the tail and deposited it in the compostable garbage bin as well, then left with Beta.
With essence of mouse tail on the tips of the thumb, index and middle fingers of my right hand. Dead mouse germs. Probably entirely imaginary, but so what. Unclean!
Monday morning, raining, we didn’t talk about much although the trip was probably good for at least one Bug strip, we’ll see. I dropped her off at school, switched from the crap radio station to my Led Zeppelin CD and drove to work.
Rainy + cold + lots of coffee at breakfast = by the time I got to work I had to use the facilities really badly. I hurried into the building, and had to decide whether to wash the mouse off my hand before using the urinal, or not. I mean, I’m right handed, if you know what I mean.
Call me overly fastidious, but I indeed washed my hands before. Then I discovered there was no towel in the restroom. So I stood there waving my hands in the air for a minute, after which life continued normally.
The end.
Now why can’t I post like this? Maybe ’cause I don’t have kids for comedy material or pets.
The cats are showing their appreciation, by the way.
I feel as if I need to go wash my hands now, too.
My germ phobia salutes your own AND you get extra credit for washing your mouse-ass hands before peeing.
Speaking of no towels; I hate those damn air dryers! I just needed to get that off my chest.
I had a cat that used to do the same thing. In any case, I’d have done the same thing. Mouse ass. Gross.
Be careful of mouse ass. We have bubonic plague in a NYC hospital thanks to a couple of ranchers from NM who probably never wash their hands.
“I must admit that even then, mouse ass crossed my mind.”
Can I use that in my novel? ;D
sure, just thank me in the foreword.