My Dearest Caleb,
I really miss you, and there are countless reasons why...
I miss the sweet way that you love and serve me.
I miss you bathing and putting the kids to bed at night.
I miss hanging out and watching TV with you.
I miss you reading me the Bible before I nod off to some chapter in Leviticus.
I miss laughing with you.
I miss you cleaning that horribly disgusting highchair.
I miss you rubbing my feet.
I miss you helping me with all of these darling children we have.
I miss your mouse removal skills.
Please don't ever set a mouse trap before you leave town. I can handle the kids, but this, my love, may send me over the edge.
I hope you are having fun in Houston while I am here with these four little ones and Jerry the mouse.
**After consulting many of my girlie, girl friends, this is the best solution to mouse removal:
~open the garage door, so as not to waste time while in the presence of the mouse.
~get an old dish towel that you are ready to part with and cover up that nasty thing, so you don't throw up a little when you look at it.
~get a broom and a shovel (don't use your dust pan, or you may never clean again), sweep the towel, the mouse and the trap into the shovel.
~carefully run like heck through the garage, out the door, and throw everything into the back alley- shovel, dishtowel, mouse and trap.
~run like heck back into the garage and close the door as fast as you can, before it is resurrected and runs after you seeking revenge.
~inform your husband that there is a little something in the back alley that he will need to deal with when he returns.