An open letter to the vermin in my garage

Dear rats and mice living in my garage,

Hey! How are you all doing? I feel like we don't get to talk much anymore, partly because you are always scurrying around behind shelves and boxes and partly because my wife doesn't really like you that much, but I just wanted to drop you a line and say hello and give you the heads up about the poison and traps I am going to be putting out today. I really like you guys and I want you to know that it's not you, it's my wife, she just thinks that you are dirty and disease ridden and wants you out and I have to comply so I hope you all leave on your own so you don't end up like your friend. I'm really sorry that he had to go like that



he seemed like a really nice guy and was probably pretty old, seeing how he was sixteen inches long and pretty heavy too but I guess thats what eating an entire box of poison will do to you. I picked him up by the tail to put him in a plastic bag and then in the garbage, and I couldn't help but notice the soft, furry, worm-like texture (I actually got a little gaggy just typing that). I promise I'll call, or at least send you our Christmas card. Take care!

Greg

--fin--

A postscript for the reader:
Currently Lauren and I are living in the house of Mr. and Mrs. Claude Snow, who are serving a one year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Washington State. Their garage is bursting with boxes, old TVs, food storage and obviously, rats. The state of uncleanliness and disarray in the garage does not represent the views of the author or his wife.