Damn Stewart!

This day was not meant for greatness. It started late, it ended early and somewhere in the middle I got bitten by a mouse. There are days like this and, needless to say, they are annoying from beginning to end. But the part with the mouse was truly humiliating and will hopefully not be repeated. Ever.

It just so happened that as I had decided to give up any further attempt of healthy cooking and instead retreat with a bowl of granola onto the couch (quinoa pancakes…what was I thinking anyway!), that little critter planted himself right there between me, my bowl, the promise of five minutes of peace and thereby confirmed my sneaking suspicion that this was not my day.

But just to top it off, instead of making a speedy exit, as I had hoped, the mouse continued to remain where it was, and I had to call for backup. Leroy!

But, alas, that no good son of mine took one look and two sniffs at the little fellow and lazily retreated to Zoë’s bed where he has spent the last three month of his fat life. I was left with Mr. Little.

So I did what I had to do to prevent little Littles from entering the world. I caught him. Ah, yes…but that moment of glory didn’t last, of course. Instead that sneaky big ear dug his little chompers into my thumb and escaped.

As I said, not my day. Not at all.
Glad it’s over.