Debra Darvickenhance your now in word and image
I saw this product on Grommet and laughed out loud. I showed it to Martin and he looked puzzled. My man is very literal; the instructions on the front of the box do tell you to, “Twist and Throw!”
He asked me, “Are you really supposed to throw them at the mice?” Which made me laugh all the harder because the image it brought to mind was even funnier than the product’s name. What mouse is going to stay still long enough for me to find the Mouse Balls and throw them? And with my aim? I see a mouse and I scream. Before my dear friend and neighbor moved away, I would scream and then run and get Shelby. She was great. She handled the mice and I handled the throw-up.
But back to the mice. Maybe they run if, while you’re throwing, you shout, “These are mouse balls! These are mouse balls!” Mice are opportunistic home invaders. So are moths. And you just have to know that every mousie mommy tells her sons what happens to naughty moths who go where they’re not supposed to.
I can’t vouch for the product. But I have been known to use peppermint oil on, yes, cotton balls.
#1, from my beloved Aunt Judy
Why do the French only eat one egg at a meal?
It is un oeuf!
#2, from my Grandpa Abe of beloved memory
Maman told her three kittens, Un, Deux and Trois,
“Stay away from the pond! The water is deep.”
But the little kitttens did not listen to their Maman.
So Un, Duex, Trois quatre cinc! (got sank)
My daughter related the following vignette, with the wry comment that Covid has blunted some of her social skills in casual conversation. Recounted with her permission,.
Exasperated mom of a two-year-old
Mom: It’s so frustrating. All day long all she says is, “No! No! No!”
Emma: It’s never too early for a girl to learn to say no.
Illustration courtesy of Debra Darvick
Oh, for want of a properly placed pronoun:
“Their (Prince Charles and Lady Diana) wedding was extravagantly over the top. We are conscious that the banquet hall served a total of 27 wedding celebrations. The official cake was designed and made by David Avery, one of the Royal Marines Master Chefs. After being eaten by a child, they sold the 33-year-old cake to a collector for $1,375.”
Obviously, this was a posthumous sale. Or did the child, having developed a taste for all things royal, graduate from eating a Windsor wedding cake to devouring its bakers? Who would buy a 33-year-old wedding cake? Brings me to tiers…
My husband didn’t catch the grammar mistake that made me laugh out loud when I read it. If you missed it too, you’re in good company. What made me laugh was this phrase, “After being eaten by a child, they…..” As my 11th grade teacher would have asked, “How did ‘they’ sell a cake if they ‘were eaten by a child?’ “
photo courtesy of Getty Images
Fellow Read the Spirit author Suzy Farbman penned a sweet column recently about a friend whom she had lost touch with. Ultimately Suzy discovered Arlene had died in 2019. This, from her friend’s obituary, made me laugh and give thanks for friendships and the wonderful people in our lives who cross our path and bring us such delight.
In her obit, Arlene’s son Adam said, “She now has the title she always wanted, ‘the late Arlene Epstein’ as she was never on time for anything.”
Expectant dad, shouting frantically into the phone: “My wife is pregnant. Her contractions are coming two minutes apart!”
Doctor on call: “Is this her first child?”
Expectant dad: “No! This is her husband!”
photo: “A few hours after touchdown” by Sellers Patton. Licensed under Creative Commons.