Of mice and women

   Only now, in May, it occurs to me that we went the winter without hearing any mice in the attic.  The women in my house are mighty pleased.  It was my wife who called the animal control guy last year.  He came with traps and poisons. And control the mice he did. 

   Control.  It sounds like merely the responsible thing to do. The mice thing had gotten “out of control,” the women said.  Now the mice are controlled. 

   They are all dead. 

   I like animals.  The mice were harmless.  We gave them a warm place to be in the winter, safe from cats and foxes.  They had a good thing going here, if only they had done their running around midday, when no one was home. 

   But mice will be mice and women will be women.  And control of the home will be restored.