One of the not-so-charming things about living in an older neighborhood is the tendency for furry roommates to muscle their way in. They pay no rent. They eat your food and they make me shudder just thinking about them. I naively thought we’d obliterated all of our mice in October, but now we have more.
I started noticing little black flecks in the kitchen. I thought Jason was spilling loose tea all over the place, so I never paid much attention. Then he noticed it and thought it might be mouse poop. A quick consult with Dr. Google confirmed that my husband was not being a slob. Our nasty little house guests were using our kitchen as an anything-goes outhouse.
And so began the ritualistic killing. Jason and his murderous accomplice, Elliot, bought more traps. We assembled our arsenal. There were so many traps a mouse couldn’t sneeze and live. Jason joked that if we couldn’t catch them, maybe we could at least potty train them as that would minimize our nasty shat- cleaning duties.
The first night I heard the tell-tale SNAP. Because the thought of looking at or touching a dead mouse triggers my gag reflex, Jason disposed of the corpse. He said it was a big one. I began to wonder if we’d caught the lone rat in Alberta.
We all know that there is never just one mouse, right? So now we’re waiting for the others, or as Jason so nicely put it, we just have to wait around until the babies are old enough to come out of the nest to scavenge for food. Grim.
Elliot is under the impression that we let the mouse go to play with his family. What? You wanted me to tell her that mommy and daddy snapped her little friend’s neck and threw it in the trash? She was upset that she couldn’t pet and hold it (thanks, Disney!) Then she started to cry because she thought we were really going to potty train it and we’d robbed her of that wholesome fun. Note to self - make time to explain the concept of “joking” to a three-year-old.
As is her pattern, Elliot continued to obsess about the mouse, especially after Jay said it was a big one. She insisted that when she got bigger she was going to find the mouse and ride it. Another note to self - find way of explaining to a preschooler that the word “big” is a relative term. I told her if it was big enough to put a saddle on, Mommy would have moved out of the house.
Maybe by the time Elliot is an adult there will be freaky, radioactive mice large enough for her to realize her dream of becoming a Mouse-Cowgirl. I can imagine her now, riding through the streets shouting, “YEE-HAW” while trying to lasso a piece of cheddar to feed her trusty steed. I just hope one of the giant mice eats me before I have to witness such an awful scene.
The word snap just sent chills up my spine. EEEEK!
We had mice about 3 years ago when I was pregnant and one morning I walked into the kitchen a mouse was caught in the trap but still alive and it started moving my pregnant body jumped so high it scared me silly. My husband still laughs at the scream that came out of me that day
I hope you get rid of them once and for all.
hahahahah.
funny, you.
Poor Elliot - maybe you can take her on a trip to NYC and find some good big rats to explain the concept to her.
Want my cat? She’s a great mouser.
Seriously? Buy a cat, problem solved. Twice in my life I was in a house with mice. The first time was my parents’ house and my dad killed it with my shoe. The second time was a house I lived in in the ghetto. There were two mice that actually had the sack to come into the room while we were watching tv. We couldn’t make ourselves set traps. The landlord never bothered to send an exterminator.
Last year, my MIL was convinced she saw some rat terds in her crawlspace, so she sent my hubby to fix the problem. He went in the crawlspace, and thought he saw the offending rat in the corner. He came out of the crawlspace, and suited up for what was surely going to be a WWE smackdown. He was wearing layers of clothes, lest the thing try to bite him, hockey gloves, helmet and hockey stick. Turns out that all this hype was no more than a roll of duct tape…now he wears glassses…
I am squirming in my chair. I have a strong issue with poop and dead things.
Poor mouse
I don’t mind sharing a home with mice as long as they aren’t big too big of a pest. I guess I’m just used to it from growing up. When I was three I think I was emptying dead mice from the traps ha ha. Sorry I can’t identify with your squeemishness but if it were spiders I’d be squirming with you.
Ew. We used to live in the country and (brace yourself) left buckets of water out. It worked every time and I still get a little sad knowing I was the equivalent to the mouse mafia.
OH gross! I totally have the heebie jeebies now.
And now I’m laughing so hard I’m crying. Elliot is my new hero.
Let us not speak of it. I’m a little freaked out.
Ick! We had a few mice last fall, but seemed to get them with the traps. Not fun. Hope you get rid of yours!
When I first got married, I was walking down the hall and thought the puppy was following me, I turned around to find a RAT! Needless to say, I gave up the house until he was caught. I hate mice, I say buy a cat, set a trap and throw out gallons of poison. heh!
My blood runs cold just thinking about it. I have a very unnatural phobia of all things furry …. Every winter I call the pest control to put stuff down in the ceiling as we generally get one or two there - they sound like elephants walking on my roof!!
Andi - I have a new blog wininganddining.wordpress.com - please visit me if you have time in between murdering little animals ……
Wendz
Gosh Andi - I am losing it - my new site is called:
winingandironing.wordpress.com
Wendz
Shudder. Just hearing about the snap of a mouse trap makes my skin crawl.
It is so hard being a kid. I can just imagine her dismay.
We had mice in the hut a few times and I was thrilled (as thrilled as you can be where vermin are concerned) to discover that the sticky glue traps work just as well, and this way Mickey doesn’t have to die, but can be released back to the Magic Kingdom none worse for the wear.
Nightmares. Me. Tonight. Hopefully I’ll be able to see the funny in the toddler riding around on a mouse wearing a saddle, both trying desperately to avoid the traps all over the place.
A mouse large enough to ride? Shhhhh…. someone at Disney just might be listening and that’ll be the next movie.
Although I think there WERE mouse rides at Disneyland come to think of it …
Tonya, Julie and justmylife - Your vermin stories are WAY better than mine! I laughed so hard reading them.
Everyone who suggested a cat - we used to have one, but we gave him away due to his royal pain-in-the-assedness. I’m now debating about getting another one, because even though they can be a pain, I’d rather have that sort of annoyance than a mousy-annoyance.
Rimarama - I know about the glue traps, but they totally skeeve me out. I don’t think I have the stomach to pull a live mouse off of some glue (I don’t think Jay has the stomach for it either).
Bleh… I hate mice. I spent most of last summer trying to seal up my house from the outside so I could stop them from getting in. I swear there’s not a 1/8″ of open access left on my house anywhere. But only time will tell!
i’m sorry…did you just say MOUSE??!?!?!
I love mice in the pet store.
Running around my house? GGGGGAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!
We had a mouse and we put out eleventyhundred traps until we nabbed the little sucker.
The fact that we had to do so much with the traps made my husband totally pissed off at my cat (who, as it turns out, is deathly afraid of mice. Wuss.).
Luckily we didn’t have a repeat problem.