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on the downward side of the age mountain.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

WMD~Weapons of Mole Destruction! Part 1

Living on the edge can turn the mildest milk toast professor into a whirling dervish when confronted with moles, voles, and Norwegian rats. I have witnessed this transition in NSSP (Not So Silent Partner). He has never been a milk toast professor but does have a kind heart toward dogs, cats, and children. I have heard that on the golf course a darker side comes out but it never crosses our domestic thresh hold until…

He came back from walking the dog. Slamming the door shut he screamed, “That’s it! This is war!”

I put on my ‘concerned spouse what is it this time dear look’ and gently said, “What’s wrong?”

His eyes had an other- worldly glaze as he ominously whispered, “It’s the moles! there is a huge mound of dirt in our front yard! I’m going to kill them this is it! This is WAR! You just try walking on the yard! Your feet sink into the tunnels! The yard is riddled with tunnels!”

I did my June Cleaver smile and patted his chest, “Now dear it can’t be all that bad.” I was already losing interest in this yard violation but I dutifully opened the front door and peeked out. I hate to admit it but the mound was rather large, it looked like big brown erupted zit on the green grass cheek of our tamed yard. “Did Bz.Lt.yr. Pee on the zit -err- mound?” it was an urban edge legend that pee- human or dog- would chase moles away.

“No he did not! We need to start patrolling more! The rains are coming and this problem needs to be dealt with! They must die!”

By this time I had heard enough of NSSP’s blather and scuttled downstairs to my office cave. Thinking the best way to deal with the problem was to ignore it. A few hours later NSSP had calmed down (I thought he had taken my approach to the problem) and said he was off to a spin class at the club. I inwardly sighed thinking the world had righted itself and started dinner.

Coming home to a bubbling crock pot of split pea soup (this is the meager food entry), I saw a slightly manic sparkle to NSSP’s eyes. Thinking it was just an elevated heart rate from exercise I gathered the rest of the meal and we sat down to dinner.

“I stopped at Lowe’s on my way to the club.” He said casually, “I talked to a young man about OUR PROBLEM and he had the perfect solution!”

“You spoke to a minimum wage teenage employee and he had the perfect answer to our mole city?” the world was starting to shift slightly.

“Yes! You won’t believe it! There are no chemicals, vibrating sticks or traps!” NSSP’s eyes were in full manic glow. I hadn’t seen him this excited since last Sunday when he had a sports trifecta with the Yankees, Giants, and American’s winning in golf.

“ Soooo- how does it work?”

“I’m going to smoke them out!!”

That was when I noticed a change in NSSP. As I watched him describe how he bought the perfect rodent smoke bombs, perfectly safe around children and dogs, I watched him turn into Bill Murray from Caddy shack fame. Before my eyes there he was in a dirty ragged tee shirt, squashed hat, slurring his words out of the side of his mouth, wobbling his head, and leering at me. The world was definitely tilting and I was slipping off the edge.

I looked at the wine bottle and knew I couldn’t blame this on our consumption. I had to calm the beast before he became a menace to society.

“Can I see what you bought?” NSSP snapped back to my mate with a shy smile.

“Do you really want to see it?”

“Yes!” I feigned interest. “Where are these smoke bombs?”

“They’re in the garage!” He leapt up and brought back the package placing it on the table.

To say I burst into laughter is an understatement. I howled! “Look at this packaging! This was designed only for men! What sane woman would be attracted to this? “The Super Gasser? The Giant Destroyer? The effective gas killer? This product has been used successfully for many years for rodent control?”

I looked up and saw a glimmer of realization that this might not be the final answer for NSSP but would be one hell of a good time. Like poking a worm to death or stepping on a slug.

NSSP reverently held his super gasser package and lovingly put it back in the garage.


1 comment:

SandyLee said...