As the days grow shorter and much, much busier, I am finding that there is absolutely no time to sit down and type on the blog. That doesn't mean that ideas aren't swirling around in my head just like the leaves in the air outside . . . they are! In fact, my crazy life keeps giving me numerous "choice" experiences to write about. I just can't find the time!
Since it is already October - month of all things spooky and macabre - today's blog practically chose itself. (Be forwarned, small children may get a little squeamish)
It's always a treat to have the Hubby home early from work. Yesterday was no exception. The kids jumped all over him and squealed with delight at the very sight of him. I was pretty thrilled too, for lots of reasons, but especially because it meant I wouldn't have to spend an hour sneezing through the mowing of the lawn. The Hubby is the number one pro at yard work! He's quick, efficient and pretty darn hot when out there molding and shaping our land!
Yesterday's yard work was multi-stepped. First, the blowing of all fallen leaves onto the grass, then the mowing/mulching of said leaves and grass, then the blowing of all trimmings out of the garage, then the watering of newly seeded grass. At about step three, the Hubby discovered that a chipmunk had sneaked into the garage. (Please don't continue reading if you like chipmunks, think chipmunks are cute or have any sort of affinity towards Alvin, Simon or Theodore)
Still fresh in the Hubby's memory was an experience my sis-in-law Audrey had with a chipmunk this summer. To read about it (and laugh) click here: http://audreycarlsonsupermom.blogspot.com/2007/07/when-small-things-ruin-your-day.html
The Hubby was not about to have a repeat of that experience! I was hoping, at this point in the story, to tell you that he got out our LeafHog blower and just scooted that little guy right out of the garage . . . but it was not this chipmunk's lucky day. Instead, he grabbed the closest tool he could find (a broom) and just whacked and whacked until the chipmunk was no longer . . . (fill in with moving, breathing, squeaking, living, etc.)
The Hubby did give the small fella a proper burial in our back yard, which makes me fear a Pet Cemetary rerun. He also hosed down the garage floor - scene of carnage and demise of small furry animals. Thoughtful, right?
My favorite part of this story to begin our Halloween month is that nine year-old Christopher came running inthe house yelling with half horror and half thrill, "Mom, Mom, Dad killed a chipmunk in the garage!" When I went out to talk to the Hubby about it and said, "Do you have something to tell me?" He answered factually, "Yeah - I broke the broom."
2 comments:
He could have used a hammer or spiked hoe as a weapon like some people I know. The broom seems like a more humane choice, easy for clean up too.
For Alvin it was a clean sweep.
Ha! I loved the part where you said your husband is so hot when he is molding and shaping your land. Too dang funny!!
Post a Comment