Whac-A-Mole

Back when I was a kid (before we were Bringing up Forstroms, or should I say when the folks were bringing up me), there was a game that we all gravitated to at a favorite kid joint--Chuck E. Cheese. No I'm not talking about skee ball, or shooting short hoops, or water gun races. I'm talking about picking up that big fat mallet, waiting for those annoying critters to pop their heads up, and then whacking them as hard as you could back into their holes (repeatedly for like a minute). You know what I'm talking about--Whac-A-Mole. We've all played it, and we've all loved it. There's something to be said about that game--the fact that our parents would trust us with these plastic mallets to beat the living daylights out of these silly little creatures. And who knows, maybe Whac-A-Mole isn't just for kids (I'm thinking stress reliever here people...).

Well today marks the day the Forstroms declare war. War on the mole or moles who have taken refuge in our back lawn and have started turning it into swiss cheese. After all the pain of trying to bring our VA lawn back to life and then moving into our new home here with such beautifully manicured and landscaped lawns, only to have them invaded by Mr. Caddyshack rodent himself. And trying to stomp down the molehills, use a neighbor's organic solution, cutting the boys' hair and dropping down into the tunnels (yes, they're supposed to be frightened of humans), and even doing a little Tinkle dance on several of the mounds...enough is enough. It's game on.

We've got the grub kill and we've got some nice little mole morsels that will make their tummies feel really good. And if that doesn't work, it's night vision and a shovel.:)

Send anymore ideas our way. Otherwise, we may just be playing minigolf in the backyard next summer.