I love my husband. No, I really love him. You see I can't deal with mice. Dead ones are just about OK as long as they are still whole and not dripping juices. But live ones that jump about and run up your arm will reduce me to a screaming quivering wreck. And our cats frequently deliver mice presents (sadly not nice presents) at 4am. And they miaow loudly to let us know how generous they have been. And my husband always gets out of bed without complaining and sorts it out. He even talks to them. Last night was one such night. And he caught the invader with 2 wellie boots and a shopping bag. And I didn't hear him swear once. Unlike last week. I had to ban his mobile phone for that - it was only fair as the same punishment had been meted out for our 11 year old the week before.
Another time I'll tell you about my screaming-on-the-sofa-because-the-cat-brought-in-a-mouse-only-it-was-only-a-half-eaten-burger-story but that will have to wait for another time.
I really really love my husband.
A December day in Dhaka
I haven't written a blog post in over a year... for a mixture of reasons including lack of time, respecting the confidentiality of our ...
-
I haven't written a blog post in over a year... for a mixture of reasons including lack of time, respecting the confidentiality of our ...
-
I'm in Uganda again for 2 weeks to close out the RCM's MOMENTUM project (Developing a Model of Mentorship for Ugandan Midwifery). ... -
I qualified slightly later than the rest of my set thanks to 5 weeks off with chicken pox during my training. However, I was proud to pass m...
No comments:
Post a Comment