Remember the dead mouse in my basement?
After it was removed I did a really impressive job of convincing myself that it was an anomaly. A rogue mouse going where no mouse had gone before and never would again. I determined that there were no more.
Then my dad came and we cleaned out the garage. As we sorted through drawers and cupboards we found ample evidence of mouse habitation. It turns out that mice don’t use toilets. They just kind of go anywhere and everywhere.
But we cleaned it up! Surely no more mice would want to live in a clean garage, right? And oh sure one jumped out of a bucket that my dad lifted up but that doesn’t really mean anything. Besides, that’s the garage. The garage it practically outside. Those mice probably just came in, looked around, pooped and ran right back out.
I have amazing powers of self-delusion.
It’s a gift.
Then, last Saturday, I was in the storage room and found a very, very live mouse. In the house. In the house where I live. With my children.
After I finished hyper ventilating I went and bought some mouse poison. But then I got the heebie-jeebies thinking about mice crawling off into the corners of my home and dying.
So I put the poison out for the garage mice and bought regular old mouse traps for the basement.
And it’s possible that it took me much longer than it should have to figure out how to set them, but that’s why I have Hayden. Hayden likes puzzles! He smeared peanut butter on them and set them and put them in the storage room.
I could not decide if actually catching a mouse would be a good thing or a bad thing. NOT catching one might mean that we didn’t really have mice but it also might mean that we just have super-intelligent mutant mice so perhaps catching a mouse might actually be best. Luckily I only had to ponder that question for about 12 minutes before Hayden checked and there was a dead mouse in the trap.
The question then became, what do we do with the mouse? Me touching it was completely out of the question. I did not even look at it. I have a rodent phobia.
Faith made the mistake of wondering - out loud - if they could get into our bedrooms and run over us while we are sleeping. She was fairly horrified when I burst into tears at the thought. That moment will add another couple of weeks to her therapy bill.
Once again, Hayden stepped up to the plate. He went down and got the trap, carried it out to the trash and disposed of the body. Then he reset the trap and put it back.
Man I love that kid. Really, really love him.
I realize that plenty of 15 year old boys around here can kill a deer, gut it and skin it but to me emptying the mouse trap is even braver than all of that.
In the last 24 hours we have caught four mice in traps and poisoned more (I hope). Clearly this is an issue. How is it that we’ve lived in this house for 13 years without ever seeing a mouse and they pick THIS fall for infestation. It’s like the little varmints just knew that I’m in charge now and that I am more afraid of them than they are of me.
And also that I declawed the cats.
Good thing I have my secret weapon son.