If You Give a Mouse Some Chocolate

It's August.



Christmas was 8 months ago.



We always get way too much candy at Christmas. Well, I think we get way too much but I'm sure that my children would disagree. Is there such a thing as too much of anything to eat when you are a teenager, especially candy?




My boys have never enjoyed sharing with one another. They hide their loot so that the other one can't have any. Call it brotherly love if you will. But sometimes being selfish just doesn't pay and apparently Ashton is as forgetful as his mother about some things.



Ashton told me earlier in the week, "I have a rat in my closet." A RAT. I don't think so. Not in this house, not on this land, not in this life, NO WAY. I explained that perhaps he has a mouse in his room because that is unfortunately a frequent occurrence when you live in the basement. He agreed that it was probably a mouse and I told him I would put some form of mouse demise out to eliminate our problem and then I forgot about it. It's not in my room.



Fast forward to today when the exterminator called and asked if they could do our quarterly service and I thought since Emma was at school it would be a good time. I also thought it might be a good time to get all of the junk out of the floor of Ashton's closet and let them spray for whatever might be in the area.




Here's where the Christmas candy comes in. Buried beneath the shoes, tennis rackets, baseball equipment, overnight bags, golf clubs, shoes, golf balls, hats, hunting apparel, and shoes was a complete smorgasbord of little Christmas snickers, M&M's, peppermints, and Smarties. Of course it was also buried underneath the mouse droppings and torn to shreds paper that the mouse had made it's little mouse home in. Wonder how many little mice were born in that home that smelled of mint and chocolate? It's like being in a Starbucks during the holidays. So as I continued to throw things out of the closet and armed myself with a ball bat just in case it really was a rat or perhaps 20, I grumbled about my children and their antics and wondered to myself if mice like chocolate and if it's bad for them like it is for dogs and if my son realized what a perfectly good waste of Snickers we have suffered due to his selfishness.




So I vacuumed up the mess, left everything for him to pick up when he gets home and decided that there is indeed a rat in the basement and he is 14 and approximately 5"10" and on some days intolerable, but on most days, adorable.




Now, if I can only find where he hid his Easter candy...........