It's Friday and we all know what that means, Fatherhood Friday over on Dad-Bogs. So if you would like to read something of quality instead of the drivel I am posting here today head over there and click some links for fabulous reading.
I know that we all dream every time that we sleep, but it is not very often that I manage to remember any of my dreams. This morning however, that is not the case.
Last night (actually present night, as it is only 4am) I had the oddest dream and I remember it. I dreamed that we had an icky yucky filthy little mouse burrow it's way into the house and had built a nest under the oven, sustained on cat food stolen from the cats dish. It scurried out of it's hiding place while I was sweeping and talking to Mr. Weasel. I freaked out by screaming and jumping up the counter tops and chairs in stereotypical cartoon-ish caricature form.
Now I know many of you and saying to yourselves wussy "What's so strange about that?" or "I be grabbing hold of the ceiling too". The strange part is that I was petrified of a field mouse.
Come on now. We are the Weasels. We keep rodents as pets. We have had countless hamsters and a couple of mice - as pets! We currently have a guinea pig, hamster, 3 toads and 3 cats. I am constantly foiling the cats plots to eat the other pets. I hold and pet the little glorified rats. I actually feel affection for the little disease carrying pests. I have a special place in my heart for these rodents. Go figure.
That is, the ones that I have stupidly paid for and housed by choice. Sure, I would quickly dispose of any uninvited house guests. I would have no qualms about snapping their little necks in a trap ridding them from my home, but I wouldn't or shouldn't fear them like the maid in old Tom and Jerry cartoons.
So folks, have fun. Analyze the heck out of this and tell me your theories about this doozy of a contradiction.
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