Every once in a while, just when I think he's left the premises, I find one lone mouse turd to remind me that he has not. And it's never in the same place.
Yes, this is the ramblings of a crazy person.
And yes, the turd does exist. Just to prove it, I showed it to my husband. On a Clorox wipe.
I might have to blow up the brownstone. But I will get this mouse.
And when I do, I'm mailing it to the owner of Chick-Fil-A.
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