12/29/06

Since I was asked...

I may as well explain my nickname. I know it's a bit lame to be 27 and be referred to as mouse. In fact, my five year-old niece Sydney thinks so. My dad will say "Go give this to Aunt Mouse," and Syd is like, "Marie, why do they call you that? It's sooo silly!" Well...yeah, it is. But I've been stuck with it since I was 11. I have a mouse in my signature and one tattooed on the inside of my left ankle. But the story... It's Christmouse time (oh yeah! CHRISTMOUSE, darnit!) so my 3 brothers and I are all at home - so are my mom and my dad. Dad goes shopping and brings home one of those bigger bricks of cheese and places it in the fridge. Lord only knows why he did it: maybe it was on sale, maybe he was dreaming of having crackers and cheese while watching holiday movies, heavens knows! So my brothers and I are hanging out in the basement, playing on the computer (sans Internet then) but we're getting hungry and leftover turkey isn't cutting it anymore. So one of them comes up with the idea to slice the cheese up, put it on bread and toast it in the oven. I think it was my eldest brother Kevin. He was always the brains of the outfit. TRULY BRILLIANT! So we've got 4 slices of cheese, 4 pieces of bread, 4 kids.... are you doing the math? Yeah, we ate most of the cheese THAT DAY. Dad goes to get some cheese later on...sees the cheese...he's not a happy little man (remember: 5'4, chubby man, he'll look a bit like Santa once he goes fully white). Now I've gone up to my room at this point but my dad goes down to confront the boys asking "who's the little mouse" who stole all of his cheese. The boys, not wanting to take the wrap, blame me, because that's what sisters are for. When I resurface later I'm greeted with "so I see I have a little mouse in my house who ate all my cheese, eh?" yeah.....you get the picture. From then on it was "listen here, li'l mouse, you stay away from my cheese!", which I have. I have a slight lactose intolerance and aged cheeses are migraine triggers. My brother Stephen calls me mousearoo, my Dad calls me mouser, Mom calls me miss mouse, Kevin calls me mousekawitz, etc.... the combinations are endless and no one batted an eyelash when someone called and asked for mouse. I get more freaked out when they call me Marie, actually :)

1 comment:

Mandy said...

Thanks for the story marie - er, mouse! :) I love nicknames! And it's cool that they all have 'their version' of what they call you. Cute!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.5 Canada License. Loaded Web - Global Blog & Business Directory