In T-minus 1 hour, Val and Lana will be coming over to enjoy some food, wine, and Kinect. So, I gotta make this a quickie. Luckily, the topic I want to cover is an easy one. My sister Prinna posted the following on her Facebook this afternoon: "Mouse in the house...mouse in the HOUSE...mouse in THE HOUSE...mouse IN THE HOUSE...MOUSE IN THE HOUSE!!!!!"
Her 5 year-old daughter Annabelle saw the devilish creature scamper across the floor, and according to Prinna, was screaming bloody murder for over 15 minutes. I'm with you, Annabelle! I'd be screaming too! In fact, I have discovered the kind of scream inside me that only comes when confronted with pure terror. A bunch of years ago, I came face-to-face with a mouse for the first time, in my first Minneapolis apartment. I screamed like I was being hit by a truck and then took off to spend the night at Claire's house. After that, I employed friends and family members to come to my apartment and check my snap traps and then dispose of the inevitable dead, furry body. I Hate Mice.
When the boys lived here, we had a little mouse "problem" during our first winter. I spotted the first one scurry from the kitchen to what used to be Mitch's room. I convinced myself it was my eyes playing mean ol' tricks on me. A few days later, when I was (mercifully) out of the house, the guys saw a mouse and decided to take care of business. Perek and Geo cornered the little bugger behind a heavy Tupperware container, full of old clothes Perek was going to donate to Goodwill. Slowly, they tilted up one corner of the Tupperware, and when the stupid mouse made a dash for the new space that was created, Perek and Geo smashed the mouse under the Tupperware. Mission: Accomplished.
Then we put out sticky traps. I was enjoying a lovely, calm morning by myself and stood in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew. I hear this teeny little "weeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! weeeeeeee!!" and I look around. I saw a mouse - Alive! - stuck to one of the traps and it was screaming. I screamed right back at it and booked it back upstairs to the safety of my bedroom. I stayed up there for 8 hours until Mitch got home and threw the mouse away.
Then came the exterminator. He lined our house in poison and explained that when a mouse comes in, the poison gets on his little paws, and when he licks the poison, his body starts dehydrating. Then the mice, ideally, venture back outside for water and then die. Our mice were stupid and/or lazy though. The first time I found a mouse, he only made it as far as our kitchen rug. But he was still alive. Geo came to the rescue. He had to put it out of his misery, so he reached for my favorite weapon - he knocked the mouse out with an empty wine bottle. Weeks later, as I fell into a false sense of security, I found another mouse, recently deceased, in our living room. At first I thought it was a joke. I texted the boys "Did you guys leave a fake mouse on the floor?" They had not. It was real. And so was the scream that came out of my mouth. I spent another day hidden out in my room until the guys could come home and rescue me.
Suffice it to say, I understood my niece's terror. Annabelle had a couple gems in the wake of the experience. She explained "I just can't get this FEELING out of my head!" and "Mommy, whenever my knee touches something that isn't my body, I think it's a mouse!" Yes, Annabelle, I know exactly what you're talking about.
Finally, my sister was able to coax Annabelle out of the bedroom (the upstairs bedroom) by explaining - wrongly - that mice can't climb stairs, so they were safe on the top floor. Annabelle finally emerged and walked to the top of the stairs. There, on the stair, halfway up to the top floor, was another mouse. Now, not only did Annabelle learn that her mommy is a liar, but she probably will never go down the stairs again without thinking of that mouse. Prinna and her two daughters finally made a mad dash for the safety of my parents house. I think, though, that Prinna first had to bribe her 2 year-old, Eve, to run downstairs and get their shoes and coats. Upon hearing that, I told Prinna "Screw the shoes and coats and just haul a$$ outta there!"
At this moment, I'm sure there are zillions of mice in and around my house. As long as I don't see them, though, I remain blissfully ignorant of their existence.
Happy weekend everyone!!