Of Mice and (Wo)Men

Let me just start this blog by saying that I have the most amazingly strong wife in the world. She's the rock of our relationship. I wouldn't make it without her. There, I said it. (Are you happy, Jess?!) 

A couple of nights ago we spent the night at my parents house to take care of the dogs while they were out of town. During the middle of the night, I heard a loud pop that sounded like a gun shot. Apparently my parents have a mice problem and one of the little demons walked right into their trap. 

I'm man enough to admit that I hate blood, gore and disfigurement. I can barely look at my own finger after suffering a paper cut without getting light headed. So the thought of pulling the giant twisted mouse out of the trap and throwing it away made me gag. Now, I'll take on any roach, spider or other insect, but a mouse with a dislocated neck is just too much. 

Fortunately Jess doesn't mind blood and guts. In fact, it doesn't bother her at all. I guess that's why she's about to be a nurse. After noticing that I was on the verge of fainting, she went over to the trap, picked up the mouse, and properly disposed of the dismembered body. No hesitation, no gagging and definitely no passing out. But not before letting me know that she would do this under one condition; that I let everyone know that she's the one who took care of the mouse problem. So there you go!

In other news, we had a great time playing broom hockey today with the church's youth group. Still a little sore from falling, and losing, but it's nothing a couple of Aleve won't fix. Our team played hard and held the lead for most of the game, but we couldn't withstand a late rally from the blue team and lost by one. Even though we lost, we saw some promising things. Our defense played great and our offense really controlled the ball well. We were able to learn a few things about our opponents and won't be caught off guard next time. It was also hilarious to watch everyone take some huge spills. No one said they were hurt at the end of the game, but we'll wait until tomorrow before releasing the official injury report. 

Oh, and last week Jess told you about our little vacation. We went to the Jack Daniels Distillery and ate at Miss Mary Bo Bo's boarding house. That was probably the best meal I've ever had. However, she failed to mention that after eating more than my body weight in food, we went to a nice dinner with her family and grand parents. I thought about taking it easy and eating a bowl of soup, or something else light, but when I saw the New York strip and baked potato on the menu I couldn't pass it up. I payed dearly for that decision the next day. I spent the entire last day of vacation laying on the floor in the hall outside the bathroom groaning in agony. I'll just leave it at that. The moral of the story, eating is like putting gas in your car. Once the pump makes that clicking sound that signals the tank is full, leave it be. Topping off the tank will only result in a massive overflow.