Today’s post is written by Jacque.
Last week I was visited by a case of the giggles. The giggle incident was almost worthy of the Mary Tyler Moore episode in which she gets the giggles at Chuckles the Clown’s funeral. Several friends were horrified.
When Lou and I arrived home from Arizona February 2, it was abundantly clear that while we were away, the mice did play in three drawers of the kitchen. Immediately I cleared out the drawers, then washed everything in them. Lou set the traps. These mice were wily! It took 2 weeks to catch the first one in the knife drawer, a pink, sleek, healthy specimen which had apparently thrived in its makeshift home.
However, there was still evidence of mouse life appearing in the empty drawers. Lou reset the traps. Nothing happened for several days, then one morning the bait was gone yet the trap was not sprung. Then last Saturday I opened the plastic lid drawer to check the trap line to find the trap vanished, the drawer strewn with mouse blood and droppings. An event had occurred. The picture of the scene is what you see above.
I started to giggle and could not stop. Giggling, I called to Lou to come look, then he started laughing. Still giggling, we searched all the places we could access that might hold a mouse attached to a trap. Nothing.
That evening I hosted my Open Studio Group and Potluck—a group of artists that gathers once a month to work together on projects, laugh, and entertain each other. I told my mouse story, giggling hysterically. They were horrified.
“I can’t believe you are laughing!” one of them said.
“I know. I can’t help it.” I replied lamely, still giggling. “I am like Mary Tyler Moore at the funeral of Chuckles the Clown. It’s gruesome, not that funny, and hysterical.”
What gives you the giggles?