Glum, Glummer, Glummest

It's begun!  Late this year...I thought they had migrated to Florida, but alas...the pitter patter of little hairless mice tootsies tap dancing across the terminally mildewed and dirt saturated carpet that no one in their right mind would ever set a bare foot upon without the dreaded possibility of the charge of a billion bacteria entities and all their cousins scampering up ones leg in a feeding frenzy, has begun at THE JOB.  I'm the executioner of these little angel faced fluff balls of destruction.

Such innocence, thinking that no one would ever notice when the office copier gave up the ghost after the wires within it were chewed to smithereens and a bedroom was set up for all those babies that would come.  Perhaps they should have been a bit more discreet with the pooh trails and all that chewed up shredded copy paper scattered about.  Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...I could go on and on and on...but when the machine innards are pulled out, and the repair man is waving his arms running down the road yelling the copier has given birth to a multitude of hairless little munchkins, well...you know the outcome for those clueless sweet faced tikes is going to be bad...very, very bad.

I am the keeper and protector of the new office copier.  I inherited the drudge, because no one else will step up to the plate.  No one is fazed by losing a second machine to the same fate as the first...no one except little ole idiotic me.  So...each day rolls out before me...a day of empty traps and relief, or a day of many oh's as traps are vacated and refurbished.  Each winter I settle down with my family of termites in my crud encrusted office armed with a new stash of shiny spring traps, disposable latex-free gloves and a very large jar of extra crunchy Skippy super chunk peanut butter which is sadly, mouse approved eats, and wish summer would hurry up and get here.