While he was......

While Wade and some of his colleagues were receiving a HUGE (hey, I can brag he is my husband) award in NYC and getting to attend the NASDAQ open bell ringing........


I was fishing a dead mouse out of my disposal.

No need to read that statement again, you read right the first time. What, you haven't ever had to pull a dead mouse out of YOUR garbage disposal?

I think you should. Everyone needs to have that experience. And everyone's father needs to receive the phone call asking what should be done about said mouse.

My father suggested grounding said mouse up in disposal. However, since my "monster" (that is how Maddie and Sam refer to our disposal) is very finicky about what he eats. I didn't think that would be such a good idea.

Your "monster" isn't finicky and will grind down and swallow whatever you give him?

Humph.

Aren't you the lucky one.

My "monster" chokes on noodles. He spits back up greens. He HATES any kind of shell or lumpy food. I know he would have had a fit if I had tried to feed him dead mouse.

So, in order to keep the "monster" happy (an avoid yet another call to the Roto-Rooter man) I pulled on some gloves and retrieved said mouse.

Aren't you curious how the mouse ended up in the disposal in the first place. Well you see it all started with BBQ. Isn't that the way all good southern stories start.....with BBQ? Okay, so I am not in the south anymore, but this story started with BBQ.

Chicken BBQ actually, but I digress.

I made BBQ a few nights ago in the crock pot. After cooking it, I put the crock pot in the sink and filled it up with Dawn water.

What's that? You always immediately clean your crock pot and not let it soak over night....(or um.....a couple of nights). Yea, I did too....before 3 kids, school projects, AWANA verses, teething babies, and a hubby out of town.

Back to the BBQ. I went to clean out my crock pot by dumping the Dawn water down the disposal. When the water and suds had receded all that was left was a tail and 2 hind feet sticking up from the disposal.

I can't stand mice. I HATE mice. I get the willys around mice. But even I thought that having your tail and back legs sticking out of a garbage disposal was a sad way to go.

Want to know what I did after I found the tail and legs?

I screamed.

Isn't that what all good southern ladies do when they see a dead mouse in their sink. Well, even if it isn't....that's what I did.

Then, I called my Daddy. Yes, I realize that my Daddy is 1800 miles away.....but Daddies can fix anything, right?!?! My Daddy talked me through the whole process (after I declared that feeding the mouse to the "monster" wasn't the best idea). My Daddy stayed on the phone with me through all my gagging and making horrid putrid noises while touching the mouse (with gloves and using a Target bag - just one of the many uses I have for Target bags).

So now Wade can come home to a house free of dead mice in the sinks. But, he had better come home with mice traps in hand!