I don't care if the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is right about mice, they stink. Like a really offensive onslaught of disgust has taken over my nose, and living room. I am currently avoiding the stench by hiding out in the kitchen.
Which would lead a normal person to spend their time in the kitchen cleaning, cooking, or even doing laundry. Another reasonable solution would be to actually clean their stinking den of filth. As noted rather recently, I am not so much a fan of smelly rodents, and I won't be touching them, or their cage without gloves, tongs, bleach, and a suit of full body armor.
I may be exaggerating, but then again, mice are rodents.
On a happier note, PK needs a driver to take her to Threadbear in Lansing. PK needs a driver because she is still recovering from her near death experience, and may now be afflicted with the kissing disease. That's right my friends, Mononucleosis. She wants to meet up with her cousin, and the driving may very well wear her out. Darn it, make me go to Threadbear!
So, it's kind of funny that I am taking her to Threadbear, which is also commonly called Yarn Heaven. As in, "wow, I just walked into Yarn Heaven," or "I'd like to spend an afternoon in Yarn Heaven," or "when I die my stash is probably going to be donated to Yarn Heaven and sold in the clearance area."
Which I don't technically know if Threadbear would sell your yarn stash upon your death, but they are so nice, they'd probably figure something out.