There is a window above our kitchen sink that looks out onto the fence that separates us from the neighbours (fences make great neighbours, donchya think?).
It's not much of a view.
So The Husband decides to hang a flower basket on the fence so we have something pretty to look at while we get dishpan hands.
The Husband pops his head up above the window sill.
TH: "There's a dead squirrel here."
TH: "Wanna see it?"
TH: "Are you sure??"
I resume washing the dishes.
Next thing I know, there's a squirrel bouncing across the window ledge, a-la-puppet-theatre style.
Suddenly a high-pitched squeaky voice says:
"How ya doin? I'm Sammy the Dead Squirrel. What's your name?"