So we get home to upstate NY after two days of driving from GA, and I tell Mom to get the water turned on while I unpack the car. I tell her I’m leaving the door open to (a) air the condo out and (b) I don’t have to put things down to open the door every time I come in with a load of stuff.
She says “No, mice will get in!”
I’m all, “Mom, we’re both stomping around right by the door. Any mice will be scared off.”
Then I go back out for a load, and all I can envision is a bunch of mice under the bush by the front door suddenly perking up and going “Hey! Hey! The front door is fucking open! Gogogo! Charlie, Reg, Benedict, get in there! Run like the wind!”
(I don’t know why the mice are British expatriates. Just go with it.)