My husband is obessed with our lawn. His obsession is not the "roll, seed, and aerate the grass" type obsession (Yes, T, I am making a reference to you). Instead my husband is obsessed with catching the moles that make the unsightly tunnels through our yard. Nothing could make his day better than ridding our yard of one of the pesky vermits. I swear, rain or shine, he is out perusing our yard for new tunnels and checking his trap to see if he caught one of the elusive critters. Today was his lucky day. He comes home from work ...I, of course, am asleep on the couch taking my (almost) daily nap. He is hungry and he's trying to push me out the door. "Wifey, let's go." I move slowly, I'm not feeling the best today. He resigns to my sluggish manner and decides to change his clothes and check his mole trap. I finally gather myself together, grab our coupons for shopping and open the door to the garage. When I step into the garage I am shocked to see T. kneeling over something that is blocked from my view with his cell phone camera aimed at the unknown object. "Stop, Wifey, I don't think you want to see this" he tells me, "I got one!" I know what he's talking about so I shut the door and let him bask in his glory while he cleans up the poor rodent and proudly sends the picture to his dad. I putter around the house until I feel a safe enough time has elapsed for me to enter my garage again. This time when I open the door he is still standing there admiring his kill. When he sees me he starts punching his fist in the air in a victory dance. "This is my fourth one, Wifey. It's not as big as the others, but that's not what matters. Do you want to look at it?" "No, please clean it up," I tell him. But curiosity gets the better of me and I look after he assures me there is no blood and guts. "Oooo, it's cute," I say. T is offended, he feels like I have taken the mole's side and he lets me know. He finally gets the lifeless mole cleaned off our driveway and we get in the car to run our errands. In the car he is still celebrating. "Four! Wifey! I owe all of my success to my dad and mole man on the internet." He is still beaming hours later...and I have to admit, as cute as the little guy was (the mole) I am not saddened by the fact that he will no longer turn our backyard into his wonderland of fun. So the moral of the story...moles of our neighborhood beware...my husband is on the prowl. It is best, for your sake, to pick another yard.
