‘Twas three days before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring…except for a crafty mouse.
Our premises have been breached by a stealthy intruder. The casualties thus far include some peanut M&Ms and a brand-new bag of delicious Cape Cod potato chips (sea salt and cracked pepper). No one has yet been witness to its crimes, but the suspect is thought to resemble a dirty cotton ball with a tenacious appetite for the sweet and salty.
I don’t know how this little bastard is getting into the cupboard but, much like my bat-wrangling father before me, I’m prepared to sit in the dark all night long armed with a broom, hockey mask, and brown paper bag – ready to pounce at a moments notice. Yes indeed, I may hurt myself and break several dishes in what will surely be a futile attempt to catch Fivel’s evil twin, but dammit, I’m a man. And as any good man would, I fully intend to take this way too far. You’ve been warned, critter. You’re next bite of candy-coated chocolate just might be your last!
