Mice. In my house.
Henry said, "Mom! I saw a mouse in the bathroom!"
To which I replied, "No you didn't, Henry. You must have imagined it."
He was insistent and so was I. Therefore, the subject was dropped.
Then, as soon as the quiet descended, and I was snuggly tucked in on the couch, baby in her swing, Derek at work, I looked over toward the fireplace when out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. I looked again. Mouse. On the wall by the fireplace.
So, naturally, I stood up on the couch. The dang mouse was Mission Impossibly climbing ON THE WALL, but standing on my couch was surely protection! (I'm super brilliant!)
I texted Derek: "DO NOT COME HOME WITHOUT MOUSE TRAPS!"
To which he replied, "WHY?"
Seriously.
"BECAUSE THERE ARE MICE IN OUR HOUSE! INOURHOUSE!"
Derek brought home mouse traps.
Which now a week later have trapped NOTHING.
I sincerely hope they got the hint and moved on to greener pastures.
But I still live in fear.
2 comments:
Ick. Vermin. Bane of my existence. Sorry your traps have thus far failed to accomplish their one purpose in "life".
Living on a farm in the middle of fields, mice are currently on my mind as well. I won't even tell you my disturbing stories. Just a hint on the traps. Don't put the bait (peanut butter) on the yellow part; put it on the bar that comes down, that way the mice have to stand on the yellow part with more of their weight to get to the peanut butter and don't get the treat without getting trapped.
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