My best friend, the Evil red-headed Berta Lou, confessed to me that earlier this week, she watched a soap opera with a dead mouse in her lap.
She denies knowing the mouse was there for awhile, but says once she realized it; she leapt from her chair, held her arms over her head and screamed in a high pitched warble, the way people with boobs are supposed to.
The investigative reporter in me (I had a big lunch), says something is not right here. Two and two do not equal dead mouse.
First of all, the Evil BL and I have been friends for pretty close to seventy-eight years. In all that time she has never in any way indicated she was a soap watcher.
She hasn’t once made mention of her heart break over Adam leaving Tiffany for her retarded, but pretty, half-sister Natalie, only to be killed by a rabid rhino on their honeymoon ski trip in the Swiss Alps.
Nor has she ever spoke of her elation after finding out Adam wasn’t really killed, but was taken in and nursed back to health by a kindly Swiss army knife maker who turned out to in fact be his long, lost brother, (and true heir to the family fortune) Edwardo.
And second of all, what kind of mind altering drugs must my best friend be sniffing if she can sit for more than 0.0 seconds with anything dead near her… much less on her?
Maybe the better question is, how enthralling must those soap opera things be if a rodent can actually lie deceased on top of you and it does not immediately register that something is terribly wrong
The Evil BL blames what will now forever be known as “That One Time Berta Watched TV With a Dead Mouse” on her stealthy dog and on her lack of a good night’s sleep.
I blame it on MTV.
The OCD Chick has a real problem with germs and people who love them so it should come as no surprise that I’ve never before hung out with someone who lets dead mice sit on their lap. I would even go so far as to say one of my big criteria when cruising the bars for a best friend is that they not hang out with mice… most especially mice that have little x’s over their eyes and all their little mouse toes in the air.
I still love her, ‘cause you know that’s how I am. But as far as ever again sitting in her house with my head in her lap and watching TV, I’m gonna say no way…never again. Not without a lap prophylactic anyway.
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