Of Mice and Men

I wanted to share this picture. This is my Provider-Problem-Solver-Rescuer-From-Bugs-and-Noises doing what he does best: taking care of us.

There's a happy medium when it comes to talking about your loved ones on the internet.

Most blogs I've come across struggle to know what the happy medium is. For example, there is the popular My Boyfriend Is A Twat. Too much information, in my humble opinion.

Then, there is the other end of the scale. I won't link, but I'm sure you've seen them. You'll be reading along and see a reference to 'my partner'. There will be no gender specific pronouns to be found anywhere on such a blog. The children (are they really children, or...cats?...plants?) are referred to as FunnyOne and BookWorm. Of course, people have varying degrees of information-sharing-comfort. So we'll leave everyone to their own individual struggle.

With that all said, I wanted to tell you about my wonderful companion. Heck, I'm comfy. He is my loving husband. He would probably rather I didn't say anything. I'll compromise with him by trying to be vague and brief.

He loves his dog. He loves his kids. He's pretty darn good to me. He's a good problem solver. He earns Brownie Points by keeping my PC running smoothly. He's tolerant. I know that because sometimes, and only when provoked, I might get a little dramatic...and emotional...bordering on irrational, maybe. I think hormones are usually involved. And then other times, I might clean up occasionally. And I have been known to move things when cleaning up. Like papers that someone might have written an important phone number on. Or furniture. I like to move furniture around. Or things that have been peacefully in the same place for a number of years I will suddenly feel the need to put them in a new place. And then the first place, now devoid of 'things' looks all clean and fresh and new and useable.

My lawfully wedded husband doesn't say anything about all of this unless absolutely necessary. And when he does, he says it with all the love and affection a guy could dredge up: 'Hun, I'm so happy to be married to you. I know you have a million and one things to think about throughout your day. But please take a look at the back door. Does that look locked to you? We live in the city. It's not as safe as the country you're used to. Perhaps we could try to make a new habit of checking the back door before we go out somewhere? Maybe especially when you and the kids come to pick me up at work? Because I get worried when we come home and I see the back door unlocked.'

He saves me from bugs and noises at night. He tells the kids that I mean business and that I'm not going to tell them again. He makes them use manners. He's pretty quiet. He likes hanging out at home. He's pretty great. The other lovey-dovey stuff that is included in his repertoire of wonderful-ness is best left unsaid. So I'll leave that part to your imagination.

Now, my Provider-Problem-Solver-Rescuer-From-Bugs-and-Noises tells me there are mice in the garage. That is not a good thing as the garage is attached to the basement. My loving husband is willing to take care of the nasty, dangerous, infiltrating vermin all by himself. Even while I tell him that I can't stand the thought of killing the innocent little creatures. However, my guy stands strong in the presence of my pitiful whining.

Snap-traps. Snap-traps will fix the mousey problem. Fifteen of those suckers loaded with peanut butter scattered about the floor of a single car garage. These worked well for the first night. But after they turned up empty of bait the following morning, my dearly beloved was not afraid to up the ante. And it was called the Bucket Trap. You can see it being carefully prepared in the photo above. Nuk is supervising. She loves peanut butter. See?

I won't even begin to tell you the sordid details. But we are now, fairly officially, a mouse-free zone. All due to the efforts of my very own Provider-Problem-Solver-Rescuer-From-Bugs-and-Noises-Who-Doesn't-Back-Down-In-The-Face-Of-Constant-Female-Persuasion. After all, if it had been left up to me, we'd have a cage full of cute, furry, saved-from-Winter, disease ridden rodents spreading who knows what to my babies.

See how good he is for me? And most of the time, I forget to notice. He's a keeper.