When you move to Supercity X, make sure you don't leave any food out on your kitchen counter.
My roommate did.
Yesterday morning I woke up to go to church and I noticed two more poison granola cubes on the kitchen counter.
"Uh oh," I thought. "The roommate must've met Mr. Squeakers last night."
A small, adorable shape skittered across the kitchen counter. I stepped back in alarm and hit the light switch. the little critter hopped up on the toaster, winked at me, and scurried into a nearby burner on the stove, his furry tail disappearing last of all, like a stubborn spaghetti noodle being sucked up.
After I got past the initial cuteness of the whole thing (his widdle mousie tushie disappearing into the oven..."Uh oh! Thur's no cheez here! I's bettur hide!"...so pwecious!), I examined the loaf of bread that had been carelessly left out. Mr. Squeakers had gotten in. I shook my head and uttered,
"We're getting a cat."
Mr. Squeakers is adorable. And Mr. Squeakers must die.
* * * *
In less adorable, unrelated news, it's Columbus Day in Supercity X and that can only mean one thing: fewer people on the subways this morning! Thanks, C-Co, for proving just how much like an egg the world really is!
Hopefully there will also be fewer people at the audition later this afternoon but somehow I doubt it.
5 comments:
C-Co...so clever.
So, now that you're in Supercity X, will you still do a Friday "Best Ever"? I used to like those!
I wonder if Mr. Squeakers is related to my little Mr. Nibbles? I feel a Country mouse/city mouse reunion comin'!
ICK!
I told you. Why didn't you just bring Nelson like I said? Geez! If you would just listen to me in the first place!
I remember the first Mr. Squeakers that I met in Supercity X. It was the size of a shitzu and it was dead on its back outside my apartment. The one that lived with me was smaller and evil-er. Kill, Fork. Kill.
Any plans for its demise? Fire? Conventional trap with cheese? Call in the Guardian Angels?
I didn't bring Nelson for a number of reasons.
First, he's loud. He'd yowl at anybody rattling keys at our door.
Second, he likes having space to run around in.
Third, if the landlord found him and made me get rid of him, I'd have no place to put him but the pound.
Fourth, have you seen the size of my apartment?
Fifth, have you seen the size of Nelson's litterbox?
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