This morning as we're getting ready for school and work, I'm scooping up backpacks and granola bars and Lucas steps on a dead mouse on the kitchen floor. (I swear to God, that dead little fucker wasn't there a minute ago.) He's wigging cause he has dead mouse cooties on his shoe and I'm trying to keep my shit together, reduce the drama and whisk the corpse away.
Merry walks in: what's that?
me: it's a dead mouse.
Merry: Huh.... who pooped that out?