After two years in our house, the local mice (the bane of our lives in London) have finally cottoned on to the fact that we have two very messy children who spill food all over the floor, and we have started to have the odd rodent visitor.
Last week's encounter ended up in farcical fashion. I saw a mouse in the hallway and we were trying to shoo it out the door, but what with the overexcited Littleboys chasing it and me hysterically shouting, the poor thing was terrified and crawled into Littleboy 2's Croc. Cue much shouting of 'Eeeuw' from all except The Doctor, who manfully carried him outside and deposited him under the nearest tree.
To prevent any more such episodes, I had purchased a couple of glue mouse traps which I found at the supermarket. These are little trays of very, very sticky glue, which renders the mouse immobile if he is unfortunate enough to step in it. Not the most humane mouse trap, but effective (and I really, really don't want a mouse infestation here). But it goes without saying that if you put your own hand in the thing, you also get stuck in very, very sticky glue....
Anyway, I had stuck the glue traps on top of a cupboard, out of human way (or so I thought). Until last night The Doctor managed somehow to stick the back of his arm into one of them. He first had to rip it off, and the glue is now still wedged into the hairs on his arm, causing much complaining.
Of course, I was the sweetly sympathetic wife. "Ah. Now you know what a bikini wax feels like," I told him. (There is some history to this. Last week I went off for a bikini wax on a Saturday morning, and asked him to look after the boys - he had made a semi-sarcastic comment about how he never gets to go and do things on his own at the weekend, to which I replied; "You think a bikini wax is fun?").
Needless to say, he was not amused.