Superspouse and the mouse. Readers, if you want a bit of innocent fun at tea-time, just mention mice. You're not with me yet? Superspouse told me he heard a noise during the middle of the day, and it wasn't coming from the hamster cages. Hmmm.
I casually told the boys that they ought to try not to get crumbs on the floor, because if there was a mouse, then it would get bolder (not to mention fatter) every day. Aaaagh! Feet up off the ground. Can mice climb stairs? Will we be safe in bed? Maybe I'll put my socks back on... (this from no.2 son, who takes off his socks as soon as he gets home. Don't ask!)
For heaven's sake, we have two hamsters and a gerbil. Apart from the fact that the potential mouse isn't tame, what is the problem? It's a good bit smaller than any of our present rodents.
"Can we catch it in a bucket?" To do what, exactly? Cage it?
"We could let it out in the garden ..." Yeah, fine. And see if it finds its way back home?
A few minutes later, I just scratched very quietly underneath the table. The effect was electric. Most amusing! Perhaps I'll buy a mouse trap, though. Just to be on the safe side.
A colleague left to go to another job, today. Right now he'll be enjoying a farewell drink with friends. Well, he might be. If he's still upright. This is 8 pm, right? He could well be hiccupping his way home! I don't usually go to farewell nights out. A farewell drink in the office is fine, but I have the boys to taxi about on a Friday night, and there's no question of me absconding to drink myself under the table somewhere in the middle of Glasgow!!