The Mousetrap

By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher

Apparently I’m a Mouse Killer.

It appears that I have a rodent issue.  Now this is not breaking news; this has been an ongoing issue for a while now.

I also have an issue with slightly damaging things.  Mr. Kaminski says “break.” I prefer a more genteel description as befitting a Southern woman.

But my mouse situation has gotten out of control.  I am completely and utterly incapable of working on a computer without said rodent-named accoutrement, and let me just say, they are not built to last.  They are both quite delicate and cantankerous.  With the small creature, I am efficient – speedy even.  It’s a wonderful thing.  But take away my reliable rodent, and I am completely incapable of functioning.

This is an especially challenging predicament on my laptop.  While there is a port for the masterful mouse, apparently, I have slightly damaged it to the point that it no longer accepts the aforementioned appendage.  It won’t work with a cord; it won’t work with a wireless thingamajig.  It’s a lost cause I’m afraid, and my ability to function remotely effectively without my mighty mouse is completely decimated.

So, Mr. Kaminski, being the amazing husband that he is, that and the fact that he’s tired of hearing me fuss, bought me a laptop with a touch screen.  He assured me this was indeed better than a mouse.  I simply touched on the screen wherever I wanted to go.  Easy peasy.

You guessed it.  That scenario didn’t play out well.  The reaction time with touch screen technology lags, and patience is not a virtue I possess.  When I have something scurrying around in my little brain, I need to get it out posthaste.  This hunting and pecking to touch multiple times in multiple places simply does not work.  Now with my trusted technology, I can manipulate quite rapidly, but somehow, this touching thing does not compute in my mind.  That, and, the fact that apparently, I’m strong – very strong.  “Touching” does not mean “punching” in case you’re wondering.  And we’re back to me slighting damaging things.

At this point, I have an entire family of mice, and they are all named Mickey.  It worked for Walt; it works for me.  But what I really need is a mouse made of titanium.  Now I know what you’re thinking:  Steel is stronger than titanium, so I should opt for a steely mouse.  But titanium boasts higher strength-to-weight ratios, which means it is harder to slightly damage.  Remember, I’m strong.

Turns out they do make titanium mice.  Think I’ll get me one and name him Mighty Mouse.  Hopefully, he can live up to his name.  See y’all next week – on the porch!

Patti Parish-Kaminski

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