There is a vole loose in my house.
He's been here since this morning, at the latest. He could have been here longer.
I am extremely surprised my cats haven't caught him.
He ran into my family room.
And while I'm staring under the desk with my flashlight and a yard stick in my hand, my mother is right next to me, somehow continuously blocking my vision with the butter tub we have to catch the little demon with, despite my yelling at her to "move the freaking tub!" and the whole time she's just laughing like hell. She says he's not just going to jump towards us, but then he does when I prod him with the stick, and she somehow misses catching the freaking thing, and then I just have to comment about his "Come at me, bro!" attitude, and then she has to pee because she's laughing so hard (despite not knowing the meme reference).
And she starts talking to me in this really, really deep voice because she's still fighting the laughter, so I tell her she sounds like a basketball player, which just makes her laugh harder, and then she starts snorting and wheezing in this teeny tiny voice, because she sounds stupid when she laughs really hard, which makes me laugh hard, because she just sounds so stupid. And somehow she imagines up this image of me whacking the vole to death with my stick? Because I'm scared of him with his "Come at me, bro!" attitude, even though I'm not?
And of course I just CANNOT pass up the chance to make a reference to "Whack-A-Mole" and she practically dies laughing.
And by then the vole has slipped past us (thanks to my mother's regrettable lack of skills with a butter tub) and gone behind the fridge, so we migrate over there and move the fridge around and find some vole poop, the whole time continuing my sharp witticisms. And my mother is holding her legs together tightly, fighting the laughter, but it's clear she has to pee again, because I am just such a comedian.
And now the vole is MIA.
The whole thing is just so funny. X)