Conversations with the 2 year old Aryan Girl

Listening to that little blonde, curly-haired, blue-eyed angel as she talks to her mom

PROLOGUE: About a month or so ago, we saw mouse droppings, the 3 cats obviously slacking, I had first tried this supposed “poison” trap that the average squeamish Italian had suggested. The mouse ate the poison with gusto. Repeatedly. For several weeks. The wife wanted to try ultra-sonic possibly Ukranian drones, or some high tech thing or other. Yes, she is the gadgeteer in the family. I finally did what I always keep reminding myself I should always do in the first place, which is ignore everyone and do what I think best. Occasionally I slip though and still listen to other babbling humans… Correcting this terrible character flaw of mine, I went ahead and ordered a bunch of “try to get the cheese and DIE! with a snap!” style mouse traps. Two days later, dead mouse in the trap, and no more mouse droppings anywhere. Traps are still deployed throughout the home anyway. And so far only one child got a little snap on the finger. Educational. They now know all about mouse traps and how they work!

Note: There was no fanfare made about the dead mouse. It was disposed of and I don’t even recall the kids saying anything at all about it. Also, the cats may have realised they better work or they may not get fed at all anymore. Another dead mouse was found in the driveway.

Cut scene to today, a morning scene, several weeks after the fact. The wife just finished breakfast, older kids are all in school and she is tidying up as she sings along to the 2 year old some nursery rhyme…

Wife: (sing-song voice) “…and we have a mouse in our house…”

2-YO-AG: (in official monotone) “Not anymore we don’t, mom.”

Truly she doesn’t miss anything.