There is thing that lives in our garage. I call it a black hole. But really, it's a 1979 Honda motorcycle. I shouldn't be negative about it,-- it provided transportation to get ice cream on our 1st date ever.
Why do I hate it? Because it doesn't run. It just sits there. And takes up space. And we have moved it 3 TIMES!!!!!!
But, it's become Ryan's hobby. It's like clockwork. Every 3 months, he gets this inspiration on a Saturday morning after a few too many cups of coffee and says, "I'm going to work on rennovating the bike today".
So he spends the day working on it with the garage open, I clean the house and bake, bring him iced tea, and he take multiple trips to the hardware store. We're such an American married couple...
So Sunday morning rolls around. And we are leaving the house for church....
And we see little black "pellets" all over the ground.....
Now we know this hasn't been ongoing. We run a tight ship and our garage was clean the prior day.
So after mass that morning, we set out on a mission: "Operation Kill Mickey":
- 8 mouse traps
- Laced them with peanut butter
- Strategically placed rat/mouse poisoning in areas throughout the garage
- And closed off all doors to assure defeat
I immediately call Ryan's work phone. Not his cell phone, his work phone - for this is an emergent situation. He get's on the phone, and I say, in a trembling voice "I heard a loud snap. What do I do? I think we got something!!! I don't have to touch it, do I?!?"