Remain Calm. Nothing to See Here.

Bulls***, Disney. Bulls*** He didn’t have a dress pattern or a keen eye for cutting on the bias.

For those waiting with bated breath to see how Barbecuegate would be resolved, I am actually a tad late with an update. The very next morning my fiancé called his parents and let them know that the church hall idea was not giving us a warm fuzzy feeling. They genially agreed to revert to the original plan of an intimate dinner for immediate family and wedding party at the Tabard Inn. While I did not hear the conversation, he apparently presented our opinion as the decision of a united front, not just, “Um, Princess Pissypants is displeased.”

Now, I was all prepared to write a glowing ode to my fiancé for recognizing the importance of what one impassioned gent referred to in conversation about Barbecuegate the other night as “The R.U.—Relationship Unit! You must preserve the Relationship Unit!” However, events last night have me penciling in a slight asterisk next to his gold star sticker.

While pressing the pedal on our kitchen trash can late last night I rousted a mouse. In my house. Specifically, in my kitchen, one foot from my foot. After emitting a noise somewhere between a buzz saw and a 10-year-old girl learning that Zac Efron is going to attend her birthday party, I waited for the cavalry. And waited. The cavalry remained seated on the leather club chair in the living room watching basketball. When I began whining and stomping my foot (a little move I call “Defcon 2”) he and his Siberian husky sidekick ambled in, nearly simultaneously shrugging their shoulders and giving me their most disinterested “Whaddya want us to do about it?” looks. After half-heartedly poking through the utility closet where the thing appeared to have skittered, he informed me that we’d have the exterminator put down traps, and then he and the dog returned to the living room and began scoring their Day 1 brackets.

No words of comfort—to the contrary, there were some comments that one might have even interpreted as teasing and understating the gravity of the situation—no committed attempts at succor. I was left alone in the kitchen at the mercy of the invader. Scarlett, left to face Sherman’s invading troops alone in Atlanta.

Adding insult to injury, I informed my fiancé that when he came to bed, he should close the bedroom door behind him and shove a towel under the door. I awoke at 3 a.m. to find the door wide open! “J’accuse!” I squealed while slamming the door shut, drawing not so much as a one-second interruption in his deep-REM snoring.

So it is with mixed feelings that I tell you that I have seen the fawn-inducing power of a man who stands up for his ladybird. Yet I have also seen how quickly that ardor can cool in the face of mice and men.


6 Responses to “Remain Calm. Nothing to See Here.”

  1. Mary Ellen Says:

    Well. You know how I feel about The Rodents. No pity! No mercy! I too have been disappointed by the lack of ardor displayed by my own husband in the battle against four-footed Plague dispensers. Someday they’re going to carry away his car and then he’ll be sorry!!
    My favorite part of Cinderella is when the mice sing, “Leave the sewing to the women! You go get some trimmin’!” It absolutely warms my heart when Lucy sings along…
    (Contradictions? You betcha!!)

  2. K Says:

    In fairness, that chair is *quite* comfortable! 😉

  3. I-66 Says:

    I’m surprised that husky wasn’t there at the drop. How’s she doing in the pool anyway?

  4. Public Defender Says:

    In order to preserve an R.U., compromise is required from BOTH sides. Yes, your mouse tale was quite a frightening one. On any given Thursday, I’m sure he would have leapt up, found a sword and vanquished the rodent. But it was the first friggin day of the tournament, dammit! These are rare moments in the yearly calendar that require that he put aside his relationship duties for the sake of pure focus. So just remember, aside from college football Saturdays, NFL Sundays, March Madness, the Super Bowl, the 8 weeks of NBA playoffs, the 7 months of the baseball season, Sunday afternoons when Tiger is making a run, the Olympics and opening weekend of Will Ferrell sports movies, he’s all yours!

  5. Hammer Says:

    Whoa, an R.U. reference? It appears I am not quite the unique snowflake I thought I was. Alas.

    Incidentally, even though it’s a long-tired device, this whole episode begs to be made into a “he said she said” version of a Budweiser “dude” commercial.

    She: Aaaaaaaa! Dude!
    He: [No reaction whatsover.]
    She: Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuude!!!!!!!!!!!!
    He: [Grumbles.]
    She: Dude! Dude! Dude!
    He: Dude?
    She: DUUUUUDE!!!
    He: [Makes a face while getting up. Sighs.] Dude.
    She: [Standing on chair, pointing at utility closet] Dude!
    He: [Says nothing for a while.] Dude?
    She: [Gets off chair, hands him a broom, angrily points at closet.] DUDE.
    He: [Rolls eyes, grabs broom, half-heartedly pokes around for a couple minutes, finding nothing. He sets the broom against the wall and shrugs.] Dude.
    She: [Exasperated, she stomps off into another room.] Dude…
    He: [Goes back to watching basketball. Looks down at dog, throws his hands up and says…] Du-ude…
    Dog: [Looks up at him and through the miracle of CGI replies…] Dude.

  6. Odds and Ends « Bridal Bird Says:

    […] rodents? First SnacksPlease is dealing with rats, then CityDesk is reporting an incursion. We had our run-in this weekend and now Ms. Poole has one eating her brownies. Local government entities, please start […]

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