Once a month a group of us, all women, get together for dinner. Everyone brings a dish and we rotate different houses. I’ve been part of this group for a little over two years and never hostessed until this Saturday. Usually I’m on deadline, out of town, or my house is too messy. But finally the stars and planets and various sundry things were aligned and dinner proceeded at Chez LaBrecque.
Afterwards we are sitting in the den when Kel says, “Gee, your cat’s jumping around kind of funny in the dining room.” Kitty trotted in…with a freaking mouse in his mouth. (@) Some screaming ensued, of which I was at the forefront I’m not particularly proud to admit. Snakes, lizards, roaches, spiders, millipedes – none of that bothers me but I have rodent issues as in I don’t like them worth a damn. At all. The screaming startled my brave mouse-catching kitty and he promptly dropped the still-live mouse who ran hell-bent-for-leather to get away. Kel and I both jumped in chairs at about the same time. All I could do was stand in my chair and yell, “I’ve waited two damn years to have ya’ll over here and now there’s a mouse in the house…and we’re exterminators.”:o
Okay, so I’m not exactly the go-to girl in a rodent crisis.:[ However, all’s well that ends well. BJ, another friend, not the cat, caught the mouse and took it outside. (y)
(Kel: “You’re just going to take it outside and let it go?” BJ, holding out the mouse, still alive, wrapped in a paper towel: “Did you want to kill it?” Kel: “Uh, no. Outside sounds good.”):p:d 
