My Best Friend, Mouse
“Remember that funny joke I played on Louise in college? “ Mouse asked me.
She was in full-blown laughter mode now. She had hiccups and tears when she finally almost stopped,
Mouse, my jokester friend, has been my best friend since we were 7, after I accidentally gave her a black eye by twisting her swing too tight when the teacher’s back was turned.
I love Mouse’s jokes, and I’m pretty sure this is going to be hysterical, so I cannot wait until she shares it.
“Louise was so mad at you,” Mouse said. “Boy, was she mad at YOU!”
Now, this I did remember as Louise and I were really great friends in college, and suddenly she stopped talking to me and refused to tell me why, breaking my heart.
I spent many nights sobbing to Mouse about it. Mouse, my college roommate kept telling me to stop because she could not sleep over my wailings. But I was heartbroken, because Louise and I had been really good friends, and now she preferred spending time with Mouse, not me.
“Why was she mad at me?” I asked Mouse. “Did she ever tell you?”
Mouse chuckled a few more times. “Remember how Louise was afraid of cats?”
I had to admit I never knew this.
“Well,” Mouse said, gulping for air as she tried to get it out just right. “I found a dead cat on the street, so I boxed it up and sent it through the mail to Kate.”
I was absolutely and utterly repulsed, horrified, and angry. “Why did she think it was me?” I asked her.
Mouse was looking at her covers now. “I may have told her it might have been you,” she admitted. “Boy was she mad!” Then she went off into gales of laughter.
I lost my “best” friend that day, but she was not left in the dark. I shared the why.
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