This morning Daniel and I went on a cleaning rampage. Well, I went on a cleaning rampage and Daniel knew to jump on the bandwagon. I was picking up the tipped Tupperware off the pantry floor shelf and there it was... dead as could be... a caught mouse in the sticky trap. Yep, gross... I know. With this old house, and the weather turning chilly, mice love to find their way between the walls of our apartment. Luckily last year we figured out where they would enter through and we planted their death traps accordingly. But, that just meant that we would have to deal with dead mice. So I gasped and turned away as quickly as possibly (while maintaining my composer) and told Daniel that there was a mouse in the trap. I completely removed myself from the situation but going into another room so I wouldn't have to watch. And after a lot of "eeeaaaawww," "this is sssoooo gross," and "uuuggghhhh," Daniel said, "You know when we were younger and when things like this would happen you'd call you Dad and he'd take car of it, well, it sucks that it's my job now."
Apparently no one mentioned that before he signed up for this marriage gig.