I just arrived home after slaving away a long weekend and am exhausted, cranky, and scatterbrained. I am ready to sink into my bed, which is the most comfortable bed in the world... just ask, well, I guess my sister. But before I hit the hay, I feel the need to share with you my three favorite stories from this week, because I know your life won’t be complete without reading them.
THE MOUSE TRAP
It was a calm Tuesday night, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a... wait. I was sitting on my bed around 11pm reading my routine nightly websites when I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye coming from the doorway. It all happened so fast, but I turned to look and there was a mouse walking into my room like he (or she... I never got that close to tell) owned the place. So I did what any normal 33 year old female would do... and let out a blood curling scream loud enough for my neighbors four doors down to hear. The creature scurried out of the room as I started to hyperventilate. I immediately call my mother... because I knew she’d come to the rescue. The conversation went something like this:
Mom answers the phone: What? (she apparently has caller ID)
Me: THERE IS A MOUSE IN MY HOUSE!!!!!!
Mom: Well, catch it.
Me: THERE IS A MOUSE IN MY HOUSE!!!!!!
Mom: It’s late, so just come sleep at my house. You can deal with it tomorrow.
Me: ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME??? THERE IS A MOUSE IN MY HOUSE!!!!
Mom: I hear you, but it’s 11 at night. The mouse is more scared of you than you are of him. Pack an overnight bag and come over to my house.
Me: I AM NOT GETTING OFF THIS BED! MY FEET ARE NOT TOUCHING THIS FLOOR!!
Mom: Well, I don’t know what you want me to do. If you decide to come over, then let me know.
Humph. So that obviously did not go as planned. Next call was to my dad.
Dad answers the phone: What’s wrong? (he apparently has caller ID as well)
Me: (hyperventilating and crying)
Dad: What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Who died? What’s wrong? Are you in jail?
Me: There (sob) is a (sob, sob, deep breath) mouse (deep breath) in my house.
Dad: (laughs... real hard)
Me: THIS ISN’T FUNNY!! I AM SERIOUS! THERE IS A MOUSE IN MY HOUSE!!!
Dad: Calm down (laughs). The mouse is not going to go near you. Did you see which direction it went?
Me: NO! And I’m not getting off this bed to find out!!
Dad: So that means I’m coming over?
Me: Nooo, you don’t have to... it’s late (in my most pitiful voice)
Dad: Let me get dressed and I’ll be over.
Me: Well, okay, if you insist (THANK YOU, GOD!)
When my dad rang the doorbell, I then realized that I was actually going to have to get off my bed to unlock the front door. And this was a problem. It took me several minutes to psyche myself up to make a mad dash to the door. Once I unlocked the door, I immediately jumped on the closest piece of furniture, which was my dining room table. As I sat on my table supervising, my dad thoroughly scanned my entire house and he came up with nothing. We decided to sit and wait to see if the creature would brave another appearance. And sure enough, I saw it sprinting down the hallway and calmly said, “THERE IT GOES!! GET IT! GET IT! IT WENT IN THE HALL CLOSET! GET IT!!” To make a long story short, my dad originally wanted a baseball bat, but I could just imagine him missing the mouse and putting a huge dent in my hardwood floor, so I vetoed that idea. Just for future reference to anyone who needs to catch a mouse, a towel and shoe do not work. The mouse did an Olympic hurdle over my dad and ran in the direction of the guest bedroom. Mouse: 1. Dad: 0.
I had the heebee-jeebies all over as I watched my dad set several mouse traps baited with peanut butter... I only heard him scream once as one of the traps snapped on his finger. My dad graciously stayed until 2am (but he was sure cussing me when he had to wake up four hours later). I then stuffed three towels under my bedroom door so the creature could not squeeze its way into my room, took a combination of sleeping pills, and eventually fell asleep. I woke up the next morning scared out of my mind to open my bedroom door and check the traps. As I moved in super slow motion, I came up with nada. And I also discovered one of the traps was faulty as the peanut butter was gone. Mouse: 2. Dad: 0.
The following morning, I again repeated the painful process of checking the traps. SUCCESS! I found the bastard in the trap next to my bedroom door. I was perfectly content leaving it there dead in the hallway until someone other than me could dispose of it. However, my mom showed up at my house and reminded me that I was leaving town for the night, and that I could not leave the mouse rotting in my hallway because Lord knows what other creatures it could attract. It took me 20 minutes to scoop the dead mouse into a trash can, as I was convulsing and near vomiting.
My mom, being the great mom that she is, was helping me empty my trash for trash day. As she opened my trash drawer in the kitchen, she discovered mouse droppings everywhere. She then started opening other cabinets and drawers and found more and more droppings. There was no way this was just one mouse... there had to be a family... an extended family. So I went to the experts on house mice: google. Bad bad decision. I quickly read that mice reproduce at a rate of nine babies per month. That news was going to keep me awake for a month.
Thankfully, I wasn’t going to be home that night. My mom helped me place several more traps... sticky traps this time. I had traps set every three feet down my hallway and there was no way any mouse could survive this war zone. Well, it has now been three nights with no new victims. Maybe it really was just the one mouse? Regardless, The Orkin Man will be here tomorrow morning to do whatever he does to prevent this from ever happening again. I feel like a prisoner in my own home as I have not left my bedroom for the last three days. I never realized how grossed out and terrified I am of mice. I am totally blaming my friends last weekend for leaving the patio door open.
**Well, that one story took much longer than anticipated to share. Although the other two stories are short, I am too tired to share... so they will have to wait until tomorrow. Buenas noches mis amigos.
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