And then he has the audacity to tell me I need to get over my rodent issue. He is a conundrum.
Do you remember, last February, how I had a large rat or squirrel trying to claw its way into my kitchen? While Justin was gone? I remember it quite well. Justin wouldn't cover up the hole out in the garage because he didn't want to trap anything in there that would stink. I think he mostly didn't feel like covering it up. Having him home for a few weeks without work lately, I made sure he was gently nagged every few minutes about the rat/squirrel hole. And then, quite of his own accord, he went and covered it up. Then he decided to come into the kitchen and make sure the wall was okay on this side.
It wasn't. There was a large hole.Yes, that is my husbands hand measuring it to see what size of patch he would need. Believe me, he didn't even wait for me to tell him that YES, this side needed to be fixed too. I think he knew if it wasn't, he would be eating spaghetti-os all winter long. If I fed him at all.
The next day, about 10 minutes after Justin left, I opened the closet door to get Gilbert's clothes and thankfully I saw the mouse that was sitting on top of our mismatched socks right away. I am not sure what would have happened if I had not seen the mouse until I was in a small, confined space with it. I may have spontaneously combusted. As it was, I shut the door and thanked my lucky stars I had been lazy enough to leave a laundry basket unfolded in the living room the night before.
Being the big, brave girl that I am, I made Justin come home in between errands to deal with it.
He caught it in a little rubbermaid box so he could show Gilbert. Gilbert loved it. Gilbert is a boy.
Justin tried to make me hold the box in a generous attempt to help me get over my mouse issue, but I refused. Because this is America and I am free to do as I please. Then he proceeded to hold the box right there while I carried on an intelligent conversation with him. Well as intelligent as you can while "There is a mouse in that box. There is a mouse in that box." runs continuously through your head.
And there was indeed a mouse in that box. I thought that I must not be quite so terrified of them, since I got this close to take a picture. But even looking at it now, I get goosebumps and shudder.
Yes, Justin had to take the closet apart and spray foam any possible source of entry.
And then we went to see Connie, who had had 5 mice in the past week that she caught and disposed of all on her own. Humbling to be in the presence of one so brave.