I promised myself I wouldn't allow my mind to migrate back to the internet for the rest of the evening, as the quality of my posts dramatically decreases in proportion to how bored I have become with whatever subject I am studying.
BUT.
I came home tonight, about a half hour ago, and thought...let's make a little evening snack of healthy pasta. And I'm standing there at the stove, minding my own business watching the water boil (as an alternative to parasit that is a treat!) when out of the corner of my eye what flies by? A cute, adorable, pestilence-filled MOUSE.
Now, I've never lived anywhere with mice. Well, correction. I've never lived anywhere with mice that make themselves known. This little guy came flying out of the living room and scurried under the fridge as if he owned the place. I really have no problem with the little guy, even started chatting with him (named him George if you must know). Wouldn't you know as my water starts to boil he bee-lines it right under the stove? So of course, I admonish him for being so brutally stupid as to run under a gas stove that is in use when he starts squeaking back at me! And by squeaking I mean the cutest damn noises you have ever heard! I didn't even have to squeeze him first. I'd say it rivaled listening to a litter of newborn kittens screaming for mom.
Back to George. I am going on the assumption that since those squeaks were obviously ones of delight and happiness at meeting me (and not burning hot torture), our new friend Little George is going to hang out in our place for a little while. I seriously debated leaving the little tyke a snicky snack, but thought better of it since snacks have a tendency to attract other creatures of a not-so-beloved kind.
Good night, I am off to study more parasites. And listen out for my new buddy.
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