|This is Justin's red and white birthday cake. NOT a red, white, and, blue 4th of July cake. He was very specific.|
We had a 4th of July get together with some friends at our house. We had a lovely barbecue, played some Catan, listened to some tunes, and enjoyed celebrating America's birthday and Justin's birthday weekend. The next morning I was sitting in the living room with some coffee and heard something squeaking. .
"It's just Jethro" Justin says. "He's playing in those boxes by the door and they're rubbing against the wall" he says. I dismissed it, assuming my darling thoughtful husband was right. I cleaned up the mess from the night before and we were just getting ready to leave when we saw it. A. Freaking. Chipmunk. Running. Across. My. Kitchen.
True to form I screamed and ran into the living room, jumping on the couch. Justin opened the door and tried to shoo it out, but it ran into the basement and after vigorous searching he (by "he", I mean Justin...by himself...because there was no way I was going to that basement) could not find it.
I finally dared to put my feet on the floor when Justin decided to leave me alone in the house with the thing and go get a live trap. Instead of catching rodents, as per his job description, Jethro sulked around the kitchen and ended up sitting in my lap until Justin got back. Justin stuck a blob of peanut butter in the bottom of the trap and set it in the basement, but by then we really had to leave.
Obviously the only thing I could think about all afternoon was the little beady eyed fur ball that could be terrorizing my house. When we finally got home Justin checked the trap. I diligently stood at the top of the stairs waiting for word on the weasel. Something had gotten the peanut butter (not Jethro, because he's too chunky to fit in the box) but not set off the trap. The monster was still at large.
Thankfully nothing was destroyed or even out of place. Justin's next bright idea was to set a second (DIY) trap and go to bed. Being the knight in shining armor that he is, he went upstairs first to make sure there were no signs of vermin.
The next morning, still no chipmunk. I sat in the kitchen for what seemed like forever just listening for squeaking, or rustling, or any other noise that a chipmunk might make. Finally Justin went downstairs to check it out and saw the mighty Jethro staring at the chipmunk. The two of them were just sitting there looking at each other. Resourcefully, Justin dropped the spaghetti strainer on top of it and managed to get it back outside.
Thanks for nothing, Jethro.