Well at least I think it's gross.
Yesterday, I was making dinner and went to get something out of a spice drawer.
I opened it and kind of screamed- there was a big black bug of some sort scurrying around in there.
I yelled for Adam to *please* come and deal with it for me.
Turns out it was just a cricket.
A really big, black, gross cricket.
Adam was trying to get it but it jumped and fell from the drawer down into the cabinet beneath.
Agh, cool. So we took everything out so Adam could save me from the cricket.
Here comes the icky part.
We've had problems with mice (which I loath) hence the getting of Henry (the little failure).
We get everything out of the lower cabinet and there's a little mouse dead as a doornail.
I run to the other room squealing and Adam sympathizes.
He felt bad that the little mouse got stuck and died a pathetic death there in the cabinet.
But to me, I guess a dead mouse is better than the living mice I picture crawling into bed with me at night.
Adam got the thing out and grabbed that old black cricket too.
I scowled and told Henry what a failure of a cat he was, that he was a bad investment.
He just flipped over for me to rub his belly.
And that's that.
We have dead mice around here that I don't even know about.