Dinner Guest

So, since it was cold, I didn't feel like cooking dinner last night. What one has to do with the other, I have no idea, but it seemed like a good excuse at the time.

I decided I'd rather get into David's warm truck, with the heated seats, and run to Mickey D's for dinner. So I did. And it was nice... very toasty and warm. I even left the seat on "High", which I don't normally do, because it feels like I'm sitting on a fire pit. But since it was 20 degrees out, I didn't mind the fire pit.

I pulled up to Mickey D's and wasn't surprised at all to see that it was deserted... I mean, after all, who in their right mind would be out in 20 degree weather looking to buy dinner? Guess I was the only one feeling squirrelly last night.

So I got to the drivethru squawk box and began to order when movement caught my eye. Something in the bushes below the menu had moved. But it was so quick that I didn't catch it at first. So I continued ordering, and when I was just about through, I saw it again. It was a mouse. A little brown soft furry mouse, scrambling between the bushes, in the leftover snow, looking for scraps.

I know, you'll think I'm a freak, but things like that just don't gross me out. It's a mouse, they exist, and I'm sure there are scores of them nesting around restaurants all over the world, because it's logical that they would want to live close to a food source. As much waste as there is in this country, and as many fries and half-eaten hamburgers as there are in our dumpsters, what mouse wouldn't want to live there?

Instead, I instantly felt sorry for the little guy/girl. Little tiny thing, surrying through the snow, with cold little tiny toes, looking for scraps of food. If I'd already had my food, I probably would have thrown it a fry or two.

Yeah, yeah... restaurant owners all over the world would be pissed off that I'm enabling their little unwanted guests. That is, if they were reading my blog, anyway. But they're living breathing creatures, too, and they deserve to have a little fast food dinner, just like we do. Lord knows, he can have my fries... it might do my hips some good.