helmets save lives

Too bad our mutant fat dachshund mouse didn't have one.

He met his untimely demise sometime in the night. He passed quietly, without a fuss, in our sleep. We never even knew it happened until we came in the kitchen and saw his huge mutant tail stiffly poking out from behind the trashcan.

I called to Marty that something had happened to Mr. Freakmouse. I think my exact words were "Oh my gosh!! That fat bastard is dead!! Whooohoooo!!" Marty was in the shower, and could not come claim the body at that time.

I tried to pretend it had not happened, and went about making breakfast. Elizabeth heard me in the kitchen and walked carefully into the kitchen. "Have you seen the mouse this morning, mama?" she asked me, fearfully. "Yes, honey. The little mousie is dead."

"Where is he dead?"

"Lets not worry about that honey. Sit down and eat while I go wake up brother."

It wasn't until the body was claimed and layed to rest in the outside trash receptacle, still housed in the vehicle of his demise, (we think that is the way he would have wanted it.) and I was getting Elizabeth ready for school that she came clean.

"Mama, I know you told me not to worry about that dead mouse, but I had to go and look at it."

Oh great. Now my poor daughter has seen her first dead freak mouse body. She will probably have nightmares of little beady fixed eyes for years. She will run screaming from men with squished noses.

"You know what mama? He looked kind of funny."

"Well honey, that is because he was dead."

She stood there for a minute and said "Did you look at him?"

Lord no! I can't stand to look at the warm blooded demons from Hell when they are alive, much less when they are crushed! "No, baby. I didn't."

"Wanna see what he looked like? He was really furry, so pretend I have fur all over me."

She then proceed to get down on the floor and do a REMARKABLE imitation of a dead mouse. Arms and feet pointed straight out, the ones on the top at an angle, eyes fixed, and tounge slightly protruding.

If it is possible to bust a gut laughing, I did that this morning. I laughed until I had tears pouring down my face, and she giggled right along with me.

She is so talented, and really advanced for her age. I don't think dead rodent jokes typically come along until the 8th and 9th year of age.