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Twitter! I have a story about dead mice! Hear ye and attend!
I like dead things. I don't know why. I just do. I've had some amazing specimens over the years. I have jars of bones. It is what it is.
Mr.Jen tolerates this. He isn't thrilled about my enduring search to own a human bone, but whatever.
So, Mr.Jen was checking out the furnace because it's time to put the heat on. (This was like, two weeks ago or something).
So, Mr.Jen was checking out the furnace because it's time to put the heat on. (This was like, two weeks ago or something).
And because we have a Michigan basement, there were three dead mice in it. He thought to himself, "Ah, yes. Three dead, mummified mice. I will put these aside and give them to my horrifying love."
So, fast forward two weeks. I go down to check on the furnace because it's clunking.
There, beside the furnace, is a scene I cannot begin to explain to myself.
There, beside the furnace, is a scene I cannot begin to explain to myself.
Three mice, all dead, all facing the same way in a sort of loose triangle configuration.
I shit you not, I looked for tiny guns.
I'm looking at these three dead mice, hearing MMMMWHATCHA SAAAAAY in my head, trying to figure out what the hell went down in my basement.
There was a paint stirrer with a staple in it nearby, but it would have been impossible for them to use. I'm going at this from every angle, CSI: JENNY'S BASEMENT.
Now, an adult human might have first thought to themselves, "Oh dear, is there a gas leak? Carbon monoxide?" first. I did not do this. No, no. My first instinct was, "three-way mouse stand-off, possibly with tiny guns."
I was picturing the scene from that Angeline Jolie movie where they could bend the trajectory of their bullets.
By the time I got to one of the things that could have potentially killed me, I was at the point where it wasn't worth it to worry about because I'd already be dead.
By the time I got to one of the things that could have potentially killed me, I was at the point where it wasn't worth it to worry about because I'd already be dead.
So, the next day, Mr.Jen comes home from work and I was like, "The weirdest god damn thing happened in our basement..." And he was like, "Ohhhh, I forgot to tell you..."
THE DISAPPOINTMENT. WAS OVERWHELMING.
THE DISAPPOINTMENT. WAS OVERWHELMING.
End mouse story.
