Last night as we were relaxing at my parents’ house, we heard a noise.
My mom said, “Sounds like we got another one.”
My wife Limpy said, “Another what?”
Mom sheepishly said, “Well we’ve had a mouse problem, and now that it’s getting colder…”
Limpy: “A MOUSE! I wanna see!” [runs off to see the mousetrap.]
[Limpy returns a few minutes later.]
Mom: “Was it a mouse.”
Limpy: “Well, it WAS a mouse.”
Mom: “What do you mean—WAS?”
Limpy: [making a grinding motion on the floor with her heel] “I squashed it.”**
Mom and Sister [making disgusted, twisting faces] “EWWW!”
**Let it be known that my wife Limpy grew up in a different household. Obviously. Because all families have their own backward, ill-conceived culture; Limpy is just different enough that in the mind of my mom (and possibly my sister—although I couldn’t tell if she believed Limpy or was disgusted simply by the thought,) squashing a mouse with your heel would potentially be normal for Limpy. I am positive that mom believed she actually did it.