Fragrant Pies From Hell

I have this cheap fabric softener that congeals if it sits too long.  So I give it a good shake before use.

pieface

Tonight, I gave that blue jug one mighty heave and the shit exploded everywhere, mostly in my face.

I guess I didn’t tighten the cap the last time I used it.

A deep primal instinct told me to cry, but i stifled it.  I staggered to the kitchen and stuffed my head under a deluge of cold water from the kitchen faucet.  For a split second, I was frozen in shock.  It was like getting slapped in the face with a soapy pie.

Then I ran to the bathroom to rinse my burning eyes with saline solution.

What a mess.  Lesson learned.

Of Mice and Men

Set a few mouse traps in the garage last week. I’ve noticed a mousey smell near the front door of the house since the weather turned cold. I know they inhabit the garage, but I’ve never seen one in the house so it’s always been a live-and-let-live balance. The smell tipped the scale.

I figure they live in the crawl space and in the wall on the garage side of the house. But I know they use the garage because I see the occasional flash of fur out of the corner of my eye when I’m working in there.

Traps set. Three dead mice in the first two days. Then nothing for a couple of days. Then a sprung trap last night, but no kill. Tonight, I saw a mouse at the back of the garage as I rolled the car in. He hopped adroitly over a trap by the door and vanished. Think they’re on to me?

Payment Disaster Averted

I pay the trash company about 30 bucks per quarter. Their little tiny bill arrives on an index card in the mailbox. It’s old school. No online service or itemized bill in an envelope with a colorful flyer and a return envelope.

I always pay promptly through my bank’s online bill-pay service. Just normal every day stuff we all do. Except for today, when I left out the decimal point and nearly paid them $3,105. Good thing I went and looked at my upcoming payment summary before I logged off.

I wonder what would have happened. Maybe they would say, “Sorry, we don’t generate refunds. Our system can only do credits. ” Gee.  Twenty five years of trash service paid in advance. I guess that would be a nice, secure feeling.