The Ball of String

If you follow me on Twitter, this will be old news to you, but here is the whole story.

Yesterday, I was doing all the laundry from the trip.  I had taken out most of a clean load and folded it already.  I went back to get the last few things out of the dryer.  I noticed a clump of string stuck to my pajama shirt.

Some of Matt’s shorts are getting old and shedding their waistbands, so I find a lot of loose string stuck to the clean clothes.  This was a lot more than normal though, so I peered at it.  Wait, it wasn’t string, it was some kind of … seed pod?  How did a seed pod get into our laundry?  How strange.  I picked up the shirt and started to pull off the seed pod.

Wait.  JUST WAIT A MINUTE.  This seed pod has a SPINE sticking out of it.  I flipped it over and it had little teeth sticking out of it.  And something that looks like a tail.

I dropped the shirt on the counter and, like you do in all emergency situations, immediately went to tell Twitter about my problem.

You guys, this was one of my favorite Twitter days of all time.  I got some of the best responses ever that made me laugh like crazy.  And made me laugh like crazy while a dead mouse was sitting on my counter, tangled in my pajama shirt.

Then Mrs. Spit called me on the phone.  I started the conversation asking her if she was calling about my Twitter status because she once called me right after I caught the last mouse in our house and threatened to mail it to her.  (She wasn’t.  But it was good timing, to talk me down from the dead mouse in the dryer.)

Using sharp logic and thinking skills (and me putting my head into the dryer to look for holes), we determined that there was pretty much no way that the mouse got into the washer or dryer by itself.  The probable cause of the mouse was the relatives’ house we stayed at in Florida.  They don’t live there full time, so the house is empty most of the time, even though it is fully furnished.  And while we were there, I’d been keeping the laundry on the floor, in between a chair and a table and when we were leaving, I just scooped it all up and put it in the suitcase.  So I am pretty sure that there was already a long dead mouse on the floor at their house and I just brought it home with the laundry.  (Still gross.  But less of a problem than if it came from my house.  I mean, if there are more mice, they aren’t HERE.)  And I’d rather have a mouse that has been dead for a long time instead of a freshly dead mouse.  This mouse was pretty much mummified and didn’t smell or disintegrate all over the clothes.

Eventually, I threw away my pajama shirt with the mouse in it.  I spent the rest of the afternoon jumping when anything brushed up against me.

And for an epilogue, let me share with you some of my favorite Twitter responses to the dead mouse.

I said this:

And I got these responses:

And I have to include this one…

…mainly because I am mean and this is how I answered her:

There were lots more great things on Twitter, but I am tired of screen capturing them, so you’ll just have to look yourself if you need more.  I just brought over a random selection.

Oh, and you probably don’t want to read this blog post if you have a weak stomach or a problem with mice.  Consider yourself warned.  😉