Playing the field

I had been feeling very philanthropic as of late. I started to save clothes for the Salvation Army. The bag had old shirts that left my style, meaning I out grew them (figuratively, yeah! right!) I had an entire bag full. I moved them from the house to the garage as of recent. Just inches toward my car so they can be taken away. Yesterday morning as I was leaving to go the gym to work out, I opened the garage door from the house and turned on the light and out from the bag scurried a tiny field mouse. I screamed, because that is really what anyone would do, if they admit things out loud. Then I got mad. I will not have a tax right off now for clothing because I can guarantee anyone that I am NOT going to wash all those clothes to make sure that Mickey did not bring other friends. So all day at work I plotted how to take from the Salvation Army. So, I got home and got a chunk of really good peanut butter and loaded it with poison. Mickey ate some but he was not dying at the rate I longed for him. I really do not have days to deal with his issues. I cooked up a hotdog, I assumed he was not a vegetarian, and placed it on an old fashion wood board snap trap. I know that my friends at PETA are creating sandwich signs as they read this. Well, I placed the poisoned peanut butter on one (I thought double death dare ya) and the hotdog on the other. I checked back every ten minutes. It is a good thing commercials exists. Nothing. Well, he had eaten more of the peanut butter surprise but the trap did not smack him back. So I went to bed. I woke up at midnight because I had to check the trap. Well, low and behold Mickey does like hotdogs. This is a warning to all four legged critters that come near my home that are not wanted. I will hunt you down and snap your head. Makes me wonder why I am yet single. I feel like I am one death away from a serial killer. Oh well. Go and eat Hot dogs!!