Moose In My House

I didn’t even know there was a Big Head Todd song called this until today, but it’s appropriate. I fell asleep on the couch and dreamed there were people who dropped in at my house and I was trying not to let them see that my house is infested with ants. (I actually do have an invasion of ants in real life, and I’m trying to get rid of them. It makes me highly anxious.)

They had a baby girl with them, about six months old. And as I look at her pudgy little leg wrapped around the kitchen table leg, I see with horror that there’s two big mice holding paws like cartoon mice and ready to jump on on her leg. I pull her away before they can get to her, but then I see that there’s a fucking moose in my house. He’s stuck inside a storm drain and is trying to get out. He finally wriggles free and then goes running through the house full-tilt, through the front door.

Ugh. Have I mentioned how much I hate having nature in my house?

4 thoughts on “Moose In My House

  1. A moose, huh? Was Palin somewhere in your house, Susie? Or, maybe she was hovering above in a helicopter waiting on the moose to come outside—wielding a shotgun?

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