Prairie Fare: A mouse story with a cheesy ending

“I saw a mouse run up the steps, into the closet and back downstairs three times,” my husband commented casually. “See? I pay attention to things,” he added.

“You didn’t tell our friend she had a mouse running around in her house?” I exclaimed.

“We were having a nice time, and I didn’t want to ruin the evening,” he shrugged.

“I would have screamed,” I said, texting our friend. I glared at my husband.