Story of the Day 11/30/2011

Aaron called , a few minutes ago.
He has used some of that wonderful Margolis-Greenbaum ingenuity.
Not the kind that Ely used when he totally destroy my food processor because he refused to look at the instructions nor even the picture on the box before assembling it to use it and managed to assemble it in such a way that it broke.
Nor the kind that Aaron's mother uses when she cooks dinner, which is why she doesn't' think to set the timer, even though we all know that she is an airhead and , as a result, dinner is often burnt.
No, the kind that actually accomplishes something.

Aaron has in his possession two mouse traps. He has the Nike shoe box trap that belongs to Rabbi S, the head of the dorm. And he has the sticky trap he bought from wherever it was he bought it.

I have to apologize, now, for the fact that the homemade trap from Rabbi S. is actually NOT made from a Nike shoebox. Aaron told me it was, but he somehow misread the logo or label or print. It is a Reebok shoe box.
You know, the words Reebok and Nike look lot alike.

Okay , okay, I will make him an eye doctor appointment, when he gets home.

Well, Aaron combined the two traps.
He has put the sticky trap inside the Reebox shoe box trap and he has discovered that the mouse, in it's attempts to free itself from the sticky trap, manages to move around enough to actually set off the Reebox trap.
And, it was at this moment that Aaron clarified for me something I had been suspicious of, but unwilling to ask. Rabbi S.'s kind and gentler mouse trap is a catch and release trap.
So, now Aaron has caught a mouse.
He went outside and downstairs to the trash cans and let it loose.
And then, he caught another mouse, and he did the same.

I have now figured out that both Rabbi S and my son are retarded.
Excuse me, that wasn't nice.....intellectually disadvantaged. Apparently it has never occurred to either of them that the mice are enjoying the nice peanut butter snacks and the little wriggling exercise and then wandering back home to make more little mice to inhabit the dorm.

I tried to explain this to my son.
Of course, since he didn't' realize that R-E-E-B-O-K spelled something other than Nike, I am not sure my words made an impact.
I decided it was better to pray that he traps I mailed to him arrive soon. Very soon.

In the moments after I hung up the phone from my son, I emailed my husband and suggested that we mail Aaron a $150 worth of real mouse traps. You know, the kind that work and that kill the mice.
You see, Aaron's mother is not one of those Kinder and Gentler mothers.
Not to mice.