You may remember when I was mental trauma personified last week. A mouse decided to ride the trash compactor basket as I opened it to throw something away, causing me no small amount of stress and the rest of the family no small amount of humor as I ran screaming into the night.
I am here to report that all of the hoopla is now over, at least for the time being.
Henry is dead.
We know this because we found his motionless tail sticking out of one of the myriad of traps set for his eminent demise. I think you can safely say he is now demised.
And I couldn't be happier.
But I still have a hard time opening the trash compactor and looking into it without cringing.
Tonight was Headache Central again, but that didn't stop me from making homemade chicken salad and orange cranberry scones. Both came out rather well, even if I do say so myself. Next time I think I'll use more cranberries and more orange zest, and use orange juice concentrate in the glaze instead of plain old orange juice. The chicken salad is down pat - it's Mom's recipe that I've been making for years on end. But the scones need a little work to perfect.
I guess that means we'll just have to eat scones until I get them right. Darn. I hate when that happens.
Tomorrow is the beginning of another work week. My breakfast and lunch are packed, and I've got an idea of what to fix for dinner tomorrow night. It is obvious the Domesticity Monster is rearing its ugly head again.
At least it isn't the ghost of Henry.