Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Of Mice and Men
I pride myself on being a fairly gutsy lady. There's not too much that can scare me away. I am determined, stubborn, fairly bright, curious and a redhead...I probably better just leave it at that; I imagine you get the picture.
Anyway, being a redheaded gutsy lady seems to matter not when it comes to the matter of mice, or mouse even. How do I know this? I have one.
One. Uno. Singular. Just one.
One tiny little gray mouse. He came to visit last Wednesday and has not felt it was time to leave yet. Obviously he (she?) is not familiar with the standard rule of houseguests - they are like fish, after 3 days they begin to smell and should just be thrown out.
So, I am striving to honor that saying and trying to throw the wee mouse out, attached to a mouse trap...but no luck.
Last night, about 1 AM, one of the traps snapped and it was LOUD, so LOUD it made me jump in my bed from a deep sleep. I spent a long time pondering how to handle this. Mice give me the creeps and dead mice are even creepier. I tiptoed to the linen closet (in slippers, no WAY was I going to go barefoot when a mouse might still be loose in the house) and grabbed two thick towels (old towels). I knew there was no way I could pick up the trap, or the mouse, or the whole package without THICK layers between whatever I was picking up and my hands. I grabbed a pair of gloves too.
It had taken over an hour to get up the nerve to climb out of bed in the first place, and after gathering my arsenal of towels and gloves, I VERY slowly leaned around the door with my hand over my eyes to peek out to see what I hoped was a dead mouse, and I was completely disappointed.
The trap had snapped, but there was no mouse in it. In fact, the damn thing had the nerve to race ACROSS the middle of my living room floor as I was peering at the empty sprung trap in dismay. And that was that...I was awake from 1 AM until just after 5 AM, just lying in the middle of my bed unable to nod off because of a mouse.
Exhaustion finally won after dozens of losses on the iPhone Checker's application and I collapsed in the middle of my bed to a mouse-filled dream-filled slumber.
This is an absolute example that men can be useful; this is one of those critical moments when a man would be very useful.
I hate mice and I would love a man to take care of this for me.
So much for the gutsy redhead...and a lot of good my pistol is doing me (not). I need a BIG broom and lots of cheese, peanut butter, bread and nerve!