To Catch a Possum

November 14, 2012

Tuesday, 6:45am:

Wife: “Jordan… I heard a scratching sound when I was making my coffee. I think an animal is trying to get in our house! I’m scared. What if it breaks in and eats our cats??!!!”
Jordan: (puts on sweatpants and slippers. Uh, I should probably wear shoes for this. Dress shoes will have to do. Okay, sweatpants and dress shoes. I guess I need weapons or something. Gun? No. Knife… okay. Shovel… sure). “I’ll deal with it. Just go to work.”

[Walks outside]

Wife: “You look ridiculous wearing sweatpants, dress shoes, and carrying a big knife and shovel. I really should get a picture.”
Jordan: “Yeah, I’m feeling a little less than manly…”

I see the little guy has burrowed partway under my back door. He’s stuck there trying to get away from me. I could stab him but I don’t have the heart to do it. So I let the little guy chill there and went to work. When I got home, he was gone, but I’m pretty sure he was under my house now.

Not sure what to do, I decide to set a trap:

Today I wake up to this:

…now what?