So after our landlord getting someone out to do work to the house to stop mice getting in, we have been terrorized by one for the past 2 days. Constantly on edge. Anyway tonight me and james walked into the livingroom and james started going buck daft saying the mouse was up his trouser leg, pure freaking out. I’m screaming, he’s screaming, kids are crying.
All we can see is the wee bulge of the mouse at the bottom his leg.. he’s holding his leg so it can’t crawl up any further.. he wants me to open the bottom of his trouser cuff to get it out and im like ‘nah mate, im out’. I then get the great idea to get him outside so we can let it run free. So he hobbles outside and hes trying to get me to open the cuff, im crying saying ‘nooo I cant, I really cant’.. then it dawns on us that there’s building work going on next door.. I know, ill ask a builder… james is standing there like ‘hurrry upppp😭😭’.. so I sprint in next door.. builder man opens the door and I start panic shouting in his face to open my boyfriend trouser leg to get the mouse out.. he’s in stitches.. walks into our garden to help.. I flee the scene cos yano, phobia of mice n all… im standing in the hall listening, heart going a dinger.
James screams and the builder starts laughing.. then james laughs. It was his car key.. he’s got a hole in his pocket. I’m fucking traumatized.. kids have ptsd.. james needs new track suit bottoms.. and i need a fucking drink! Jesus christ 😂😂
Credit Rachael McRobbie