The Haunted House?

What is it they say about no good deed ever going unpunished? Or something like that?

The Lovely Mrs. G. and I were honored to have guests over to our house this weekend, which is a big deal. You see, our old home in Sewer City was just too small to have anyone over, so we never entertained. Never.

Ah, but now that we've moved UPSCALE, we've got a much bigger home, with plenty of room for people to come over, nosh, mingle, and hopefully not spill anything on the carpet.

So yesterday we had a mini-party, having some friends over for lunch. My old pal Chris from Orlando was in town with his family for the weekend, and Mrs. G. had him and his crew over for burgers & dogs on the grill.

Sounds simple, right?

Well, for most part it was. We had a great time visiting with everyone, I whipped up some mighty tasty cheeseburgers, while Mrs. G. made her world famous potato salad and a batch of killer brownies, and we all had a good time chatting and wolfing down some picnic fare.

Ah, but there has to be a rub to everything, and here's ours.

We'd spent most of the weekend cleaning house and making everything neat & pretty for our guest's arrival. (Okay – total disclosure. Mrs. G. did most of the cleaning. I did however manage to mow the lawn, and clean the junk off my desk that had been piling up for weeks on end.)

So the house was nice & clean, and we were proud to take our visitors around to see the place. I showed them the upstairs, I showed them the downstairs, I showed them the main floor.

And then I took them outside, to see our deck and backyard. And that's when things sorta fell to shit.

You see, somewhere in the brief time between our final "pre-company walk through" and the actual tour of Casa se Gressel, one of our lovely cats had managed to catch and kill a squirrel. Poor thing. Gone to the great big oak tree in the sky.

Anyway, I take everyone outside to admire our lovely deck and the greenest lawn in all of Eastern Nebraska, and there he was – Mr. Dead Squirrel, lying on his back, spread eagle, welcoming Chris & Co. over.

Yes, nothing says "Howdy" like a dead squirrel presented at your guest's feet.

Of course, everyone said "Ewww", while your host Tommy the Ghoul turned 8 shades of red at the unexpected (and dead as a doornail) party crasher.

It would've just been easier if I'd planned the pet cemetery exhibit in our backyard. "Hey, everyone! Welcome to the Gressel's House of Death & Torture! That's Danny the Dead Squirrel! See him already covered in genuine flies? Why, that's Macabre with a Capital M!"

As far as the cats go, they seemed awfully proud of their lawn art. And as gross as it was, at least his corpse was intact. I was glad that Dixie hadn't eaten his head or something, which she's been known to do with past captures. Chris' 8 year old daughter however did recommend that we cut the dead squirrel in half and hang him on the wall, like a hunting trophy. (I politely passed on this suggestion.)

So there you go – it was lunch, a tour, AND a Circle of Life moment. And with Halloween only 33 days away, I guess you can say we got into the "holiday spirit" a little sooner than most.

And who knows what dead things we'll have laying around the house when you come to visit. So consider yourself warned, and by all means watch where you step.