Post Removed By Author

Out of a belated sense of respect for my oldest daughter, I have removed the post that was previously here. She has developed an acute sense of self-conciousness and doesn't want the blogging community to know all of her shortcomings. It's a fine line for me to figure out. On the one hand, the crazy things they do is my raw material. On the other hand, I don't want them hating me for causing them public shame. So, sorry Sophie. I hope you'll forgive me.

Not-So-Useful Tools of Technology

As I was playing around with our camera recently, I discovered a function it has called "happy face." It actually morphs the mouth of a person's face to appear as if they are smiling! Worse than merely unnatural, it looks pretty disturbing. It takes a perfectly normal looking person and turns them into a goon. That's what they should've called it: "goon face." For effect, I set the happy level at maximum, but you can pretty much tell it's not going to be great at any level:

Creepy Happy People

On second thought, it might not turn out to be totally useless. Whenever a kid (Brooke) refuses to smile for me, I can threaten to "happy face" them. Should cut down on the bribery at least.

Victory!

News Update: Got him! Hard to say whether it's a girl or a boy, but I'm sticking with my original theory. We'll keep the traps out in case there are more furry friends lurking in there.

Plan of Attack

So I've been doing some research on mice to try to determine what exactly we need to be prepared for, and specifically, how quickly their army will increase. What I discovered leads me to believe I have to be very proactive in making sure that whatever mouse or mice are out there do not reproduce.

Unlike Mickey and Minnie who have been a couple since the 50's but have never had children, most mice reproduce as young as 1 1/2 months of age, and up to 6 times during their yearlong life cycle. Each litter averages 6 critters. Presumably they have no social code that prevents them from becoming intimate with siblings or cousins, so doing the math, you can end up with an infestation pretty quickly if you don't act on it.

First order of business, set out the traps. Todd did that yesterday, but so far nothing has set them off except the dog in an unwise attempt to get at the peanut butter (who, lucky for her, didn't get caught in it).

Next order of business, ensure that the atmosphere is distinctly unromantic in an attempt to prevent rodent reproduction. I've removed all candles and banned romantic movies from being played in the garage. There used to be a book on sensual massage out there somewhere, so I've moved that too (onto Todd's pillow). John Mayer CD's, check. Absolutely NO alcohol! (I know, there wasn't any to begin with). The only remaining issue is the dress up clothes. I don't know what kind of kinky stuff they may be into, but I don't really want to bring all that in because it's a big box and the clothes kinda smell like dog. Perhaps that will be enough of a deterrent on its own.

Frankly, though, I don't know what kind of girl, mouse or not, would be attracted by a man who poops all over the place and lives in it. He may be his own obstacle. Heaven knows he's not the only male with that problem!

This Aint No Gus or Jaq

With the cold weather upon us, it's virtually inevitable. We have been hosting at least one mouse in the garage, and you know where there's one there are likely more. I'm not scared of mice, but I am totally grossed out by them. It's pretty much the only thing that Cinderella and I don't share in common.

No little shirts or hats for these trespassers. The last time we found mouse evidence, Todd set out a trap and the next day it was caught. No biggie. This time, I can't seem to get him to set out the trap. He wants me to find it, I think, and I'm terrified of running my hand around the shelf trying to find it lest I end up as I'd like the disgusting rodent to end up.

Nevertheless, something must be done. I think he (I assume it's a boy - girls wouldn't leave their feces all over the place like that) has been eating mostly dog food and maybe some wheat so far. I don't think Todd's going to get serious about this war though, until the little guy treads on sacred territory. Hundreds of pounds of wheat? Whatever. But if he tries to get into Todd's bag of Twix, he's a dead mouse.

Toy Ban Update

Right now, since they don't have any toys to fight over, the girls are having a contest called "how clean can we make our room." I'm thinking I'm brilliant - but surely as soon as I get cocky it'll all crumble around me. Knock on wood.

Split Personality

I think my Brooke may have a split personality. There's something of a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde thing going on with her. Not long ago she wrote her nasty "Mean With A Capital M" note to Janelle. The next day I found this:

Translation (in case you can't read seven-year-old): "Dear Janelle, I did this all by myself. You don't have to say thank you. I love you and I thought because you are asleep I will do it. I got the idea [then she stopped the sentence for some reason]. -Brooke P.S. Surprise"

I wish I could say it was a permanent change of heart, but she has yet to earn all her stuff back. The fighting has diminished quite a bit, so something in my master plan is working. It's gone from several times/day down to once/day or less, and now that school is back in I expect it will be easier. If this 21 days without fighting thing works out, I will audition for Supernanny's replacement. I am either an evil genius or just evil. The jury's still out.