What do mousetraps, blondes and toilets have in common?
Very little unless you happen to live here.
Now, I confess, I am a blonde, and I do live here, but this was none of my doing, and I can pull some really stupid blonde related stunts, but not this time.
I guess my son (blond recessive) gravitates to those of us who do dumb stuff (and trust me, he’s pretty capable too). He’s used to it. He grew up with it. It gives us something to laugh at. (Like the time… or the time… Oh yeah! Good stuff to blog about later!)
I am thankful that this girlfriend had the wherewithal to not only admit to the deed, but to actually purchase a replacement toilet. Whew… they are not cheap!
I still don’t get why the trap had to go down the toilet, but it did. One of life’s great mysteries.
That toilet, by the way, is now located outside on the north side of the house… no-man’s land.
I queried son Max as to why he would put it out there where it would soon to be entwined and covered in morning glories and lost forever, and not put it out for trash?
“Well, it’s a perfectly good toilet, as long as you can get the mousetrap out.”
So, I guess we wait for the wood to rot, then anyone can use the facilities out there on the dark side of the house?
Of course, it’s always good to have a spare toilet. Somewhat akin to having extra batteries and candles; no one should ever be without.
Then I got, “You can use it as a planter?”
Hmm. Where it is, it’ll do that on its own.
So Bloggers and Bloggetters, till next time, may all your toilets flush true, and your mousetraps be way less complicated.
2 hours ago