Schadenfreude

I came home from a book club meeting last night to find Paul smugly awaiting my return and knew instantly how he'd spent his evening. Sure enough, he waited only a few moments before ever-so-casually mentioning that he'd fixed the Mousetrap game.

I crouched on the floor to admire his handiwork and gave the ball a tentative flush. The first trap, one which had completely baffled me, worked perfectly. Impressed as I was, I also couldn't help grimacing a bit to see Paul so easily master that which had left me so stumped. But then I flushed again and watched with equal parts of my earlier frustration and a new sort of satisfaction as the second trap failed. By the time the third trap (the one I had managed to figure out earlier in the day) flopped, I had a little bit of a smile on my face. And then (then!) I discovered that one of those marbles which I'd predicted would be missing by nightfall was indeed gone. "Where's the third ball?" I asked as my smile spread to a mile-wide grin.

I left Paul on his hands and knees muttering as he searched for the ball and I headed off to bed. I felt much, much better.