Earlier this week, we finally put two and two together and realized there was a mouse in our 1994 Honda Accord. (Two and two turned out to be a nest of shredded pink insulation in the trunk and what sounded like chewed up bits of plastic rattling around every time we turned on the fan. Somehow the mouse poop covering every seat eluded us.)
Robert got to work cleaning out the car and setting traps. We were both shocked to see what this clearly left-wing, liberal mouse did to President Regan in the April 2009 issue of Time Magazine.
But then I turned the magazine over and realized the mouse was more of an equal opportunity president shredder. Independent maybe?
Of course all of this begs the question: Why do I feel the need to put this mouse in a political box? Can't we all be brothers?
In this case, no, we can't. And it's not really a box I want to put him in, as much as a spring loaded, peanut butter filled, life ending death trap.