My excellent cousin Heather blogged about her little boy getting his widdle-biddy finger caught in a mousetrap.
I had a fleeting, "Oh no, I hope he is okay" thought which was suddenly and completely overridden with the urge to laugh. I dunno why but it just seemed really really funny. Little boys playing with mousetraps? Yeah, that's funny. Sign me up for parenting classes right now.
It wasn't so funny, though, when karma brought it full-circle in less than 24 hours. Brett called me yesterday while I was driving home.
"My parents are here. Can you stop by the grocery store and get some mushrooms? I'm making steak sandwiches for dinner."
"Oh yeah, and get another bell pepper, too."
"And pick up some mousetraps, as well."
"Huh? Very funny. You've been reading Heather's blog. I can't help it if I think it's funny that her boy got his finger caught in a mousetrap. I'm sure it hurt, but he's okay. No serious injury inflicted. That doesn't make me a bad person."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Then why on earth do you want me to get mousetraps?"
"My mom found a mouse. Duh. I want to make sure we get rid of any others that might still he hanging around."
"Your mom found a mouse? IN THE HOUSE? IN OUR HOUSE?"
"Yeah, he was in the oven."
"DID SHE GET RID OF HIM?"
"Well, I did. She ran into the bathroom and locked the door."
So, is it coincidence that I haven't thought about mice or mousetraps or any other kind of vermin since I was a kid and our house in Salinas had a mouse problem but all of a sudden there's a mouse in my house immediately after I laughed at a poor toddler getting his finger caught in a mousetrap? I doubt it. This is karma-in-action.
I just hope our dogs don't get their little noses snapped in the traps anytime soon.