I Hope It Was Worth It, Eddie

You may recall that we had an unwanted guest roaming our house and that I made it a top priority to get rid of this guest.  This beady-eyed little mouse we called Eddie.

Oh, how I love using verbs in the past tense.  You see, Tater Daddy came home from work this afternoon and walked outside with the dogs.  When he came back in he said, “Which one killed the mouse?”

“Eddie?” I said with just a little too much excitement.

“No, I’m your husband, Tater Daddy,” he explained.  “Seriously, woman, didn’t we talk about reducing those drama pills?  Which dog gets the treat for killing the mouse?”

“Where’s that mouse?”  I wanted to know.  I wanted to see my tormentor.  And the stinking rodent who’d just cost us $160. 

That’s right.  Just a few hours earlier I’d written a check for $160 plus change to two of the nicest plumbers I have ever met.  (Seriously, they were just delightful.  If I had had all the right ingredients, I would have baked them each a chess pie while they were here.)

About 9:00 this morning I walked by the kitchen sink, and it sounded like someone was hiding underneath spraying everything with the garden hose.  That is never a good sign.  When I opened the cabinet door, lo and behold, the hot water line to the dishwasher was giving everything a nice soak.  As I was reaching in to turn the water off, Tater Tot came in and took a look.  “Oh, Mama!  Wain!  Wain!  Wow.”  Then he looked at me, soaked from my head to my knees and said, “Mama, you are all wet!  Are you okay, Mama?”  In case you can’t tell, I LOVE that sweet little boy like a pig loves mud.

Okay, so back to the point.  The plumbers fumbled around under the sink for about 13 seconds and then one emerged and said, “Well, you have a mouse,” and then he showed me all the debris.  That little punk had chewed through the lining or wrapping or whatever you call the thing that surrounds the main line to the dishwasher.  Not only that, but he’d eaten a hole in the wood flooring for easy access to/from the outside.

When I saw it for myself, any pity I had for the poor little mouse just left.  At that point, I figured Eddie had just upped the ante.  I was thinking up all kinds of traps, from the old-fashioned spring-loaded kind you set with cheese to the newer ones that use glue to trap the little devils.

That’s about the time that Tater Daddy came in gave me the news about the dead mouse near the deck.  I looked at it.  But, it’s hard to say whether it’s Eddie of not.  If it is, well, good riddance.  If it’s not, well, there’s a little something under the sink just in case.

In any event, I hope a little drink of water was worth it.

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4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Upside Brown
    Aug 29, 2008 @ 07:15:51

    If you only could see me wiping tears from my eyes! That is a hysterical blog, girl! Goodbye, Eddie! Now, any suggestions for getting rid of mole(s)? Our front yard looks like a surface-level subway has ripped through it. And PLEASE don’t suggest a cat – I don’t think I could stand it!! 🙂

    Reply

  2. Marty
    Aug 29, 2008 @ 18:32:08

    Oh. I. swan! (which is what one of my southern grandmothers said. The other one said “I. do.declare.”

    Please keep writing!

    I don’t have a blog, and I don’t comment much, but I will be lurking. Or maybe that’s stalking.

    Reply

  3. thefarmerfiles
    Aug 30, 2008 @ 01:37:55

    Ewww. I hope it was him! I’m squeamish!

    Reply

  4. Trackback: Sing This One With Me… « Tater Tales

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