There’s a mouse in my house.
Here’s the scene:
I’m sitting in my living room Monday night. It’s late. Chris is already in bed, but I can’t sleep because of this whole stupid working-the-night-shift thing. So I’m watching a movie and then I see it – a dark shape skittering over the back of the stove and going into the sink. Gasp!
I wasn’t sure that it actually was what I thought it was, so I slowly paused the movie and stared, wide-eyed, into the kitchen. Nothing, but I had to be sure. I slowly walk over to the sink (which is in the dark, by the way) and peer inside.
IT JUMPED OUT AT ME!
I screamed, I threw things, I started hopping on my tip-toes, and the mouse ran back behind the stove! Augh! I did the only thing that I could think and grabbed a bottle of cleaning solution and sprayed behind the stove like a mad woman. Then, I had visions of a dead mouse stinking up the kitchen a few days later and put the bottle down. I listened. I waited. Nothing. I had to be sure. I grabbed the flashlight from my kitchen drawer, got down on my hands and knees and looked under the stove. I didn’t see anything, and then…
Feet, fur, and a tail raced across my line of vision! Augh!
I started cleaning like crazy. We do not have a dirty house. There weren’t crumbs or spills all over the place. Sure, there were a few dishes soaking in the sink, but they were doused in suds. But we do live across the street from a giant field. It’s not surprising that a mouse would find its way into a warm house, but ugh! I couldn’t stand the thought of having any opened containers of food in the kitchen. All it took was one mental image of a mouse tail hanging out of a bag of chips or mousey teeth chewing on a bag of bread. Into the garbage they went!
Chris opened his email the following morning and saw this message from me:
Subject: If you give a mouse a cookie…
…he will come into your house, run along the back of your stove, and hide out in the sink. Then, when your wife goes to investigate, he’ll JUMP out and run BACK along the stove and HIDE in between it and the wall, causing your wife to shriek, throw things, spray cleaning solution behind the stove, and then become worried that the mouse has died and will start to stink, making her shine a flashlight UNDER the stove, causing her to see MOUSE FEET and a TAIL wiggling, making her scream even more, go into a cleaning frenzy, and start throwing out pretty much every open container of food. That is why there are 2 big, full trash bags by the door this morning.
PS – Please buy 2 mousetraps on your way home from work
Chris bought mousetraps, but they were the kind where the mouse gets stuck to a sticky pad and you have to pull it off. No way! He’s going to have to go back tomorrow and get some new ones. In the meantime, I really, really hope that I don’t see any more furry, fuzzy creatures in my kitchen. Gross!
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