Earl helps me hunt for mice

As it happens, I am not a great house owner. There are many things at my house that are not up to par and need to be fixed. This is because I don’t have a husband. Or at least I think so. If I had a husband he would be able to fix all of these problems for me while I worked on dinner and cleaned toilets. I know this is a rather classic view of male/female roles in the house, but the fact is, I don’t want to deal with some stuff, most noteably: mice. But because I have no husband, I have had to make do and so I have a system for dealing with mice. Upon first seeing the mouse droppings, I ignore them. Then, I talk to the mice and tell the mice that if they don’t bother me I won’t bother them. Inevitably, they don’t agree to this and continue to plague me. Then I call my dad with the mice news hoping that just this one time he will say "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." (He never does. He just says, "It's a homeowner's job.") In the end I have to set the traps and then get out the special BBQ pinchers that I use exclusively for picking up mouse traps filled with mice. There is always a lot of screaming on my part.

So as it happens, I have a mouse problem and a dryer vent that needs repair. This has produced the most spectacular event that Earl has participated in. Twice when I have gone to start the dryer a mouse has run out of the dryer vent. Thus, Earl is convinced that anytime I turn on the dryer a mouse will run out. What this means is that Earl is ready to go when I turn the dryer on. Whenever I go near the dryer, Earl follows me and looks anxiously at the dryer, waiting for the mouse. If I forget to call him he has come running around the corner at the sound of the door opening. Earl has become my go-to guy for mouse hunting.

Last week, after having unsuccessfully negotiated with the mice to leave me alone, I heard one rumbling around in the cabinet. I called Earl and he and I investigated in the kitchen. The investigation looked like this: Me in the middle of the kitchen with the broom poking at cabinets and screaming, "Go away mouse!" and Earl standing in the kitchen looking up at me like he had no idea what his part in this spectacle was. We didn't find any mice that day, but later when I caught five mice in the middle of the night, he was the only one who got up at 1:30 AM and followed me into the kitchen to provide moral support while I screamed and used the special mouse getting BBQ pinchers to pick up mouse traps and throw them into the trash. If only he would learn how to get rid of the mice himself.