Ok - so as I was sitting in my office - writing my comments to my peeps who commented on my previous post - #4 mouse was hiding IN. HERE. WITH. ME!!!
"How do you know this Shopgirl?" you may be wondering.
"Because, I went downstairs to the kitchen to pack my lunch for work tomorrow." (see Dave - I AM budgeting) (who am I kidding - I went down for a snack, felt guilty for eating, and packed a lunch to save face.)
Anyway . . .
While I was gone - #4 met his/her fate with the trap! I now have a routine of checking the traps EVERYTiME I walk by one. So, when I came back in my office - I just glanced over - expecting to see an empty (but still loaded with PB) trap - and to my horror there was #4.
OK - HP - he/she was tiny and I did feel a little bit sad for him/her but I snapped back to reality. He/she is a dirty rodent and must die. From the looks of it (ick) it was swift.
Please Dear Lord Baby Jesus.... let this be the last of them.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Out, damn'd Mouse!
Update: as of last week – I had caught 3 mice (well, the traps did) and I disposed of them (trap and all – as IF I would keep the trap). So I thought I was DONE. I mean, I hadn’t seen any more mouse droppings and the traps still had peanut butter – so at least I didn’t have a “smart mouse” that was able to get the PB without getting his little head snapped in the trap. All is good right?
Wrong! Oh. So. Wrong.
I was doing ok (ok, so not really –but I’ve had mice before and even back when I lived with my parents in their NICE house we would have a mouse or two every year.) But that was when my DAD would handle all of that – he’d set the traps and dispose of the carcass. Now, it’s up to ME. And, really? A girl should NOT have to do this kind of thing. Back in my college days, I was all “I am woman, hear me roar!” but these days and in cases of mice in the house? Not so much. I want a MAN (hot of course) to take care of this stuff. Killing spiders too – eck – definitely a boys job. Ok, sorry I drifted – back to my story.
So this past Saturday night I’m in my office – UPSTAIRS – next to my BEDROOM and I SWEAR I saw something move across the baseboard. Now, normally I’d be all like “I’m tired – it was nothing.” Not now. I KNOW it was the FOURTH mouse. And he’s UPSTAIRS next to my BEDROOM!! (yes, I know I repeated myself – it’s worth repeating) HE’S a TAD to close for me!! So, I march DOWNSTAIRS and check the trap I have set up – it’s still loaded with PB so it’s not like he’s gotten the bait – he’s just RELOCATED himself to a warmer part of the house.
Well, since my BEDROOM is right next door there is NO WAY I’m letting this RODENT live just one more minute in my house. I know that Mickey and the mice from Cinderella were all cute and fluffy - but this is a RODENT and he MUST DIE (and any/all members of his family). He is getting NO WHERE NEAR MY BEDROOM – at least not while I’m there. I have a hard and fast rule about not sharing my bed with anyone who doesn’t ‘BRING A BIG SMILE TO MY FACE’ and there “ain’t no way this creature is gonna do that” so he must go.
So last night I went to bed – traps set and hoped (even though it’s not the way I wanted to start a Monday morning) that I would have DEAD mouse this am to deal with.
Wrong. So. Effing. Wrong.
I have another smart mouse and he was able to get the PB off the trap – and probably feed his effing family of 100! GOD HELP ME!!
This morning I re-set the traps with the PB spread so thin and close to the trip of the trap grabbed my things and got the hell out of there.
If he’s not dead when I come home – I’m moving.
Wrong! Oh. So. Wrong.
I was doing ok (ok, so not really –but I’ve had mice before and even back when I lived with my parents in their NICE house we would have a mouse or two every year.) But that was when my DAD would handle all of that – he’d set the traps and dispose of the carcass. Now, it’s up to ME. And, really? A girl should NOT have to do this kind of thing. Back in my college days, I was all “I am woman, hear me roar!” but these days and in cases of mice in the house? Not so much. I want a MAN (hot of course) to take care of this stuff. Killing spiders too – eck – definitely a boys job. Ok, sorry I drifted – back to my story.
So this past Saturday night I’m in my office – UPSTAIRS – next to my BEDROOM and I SWEAR I saw something move across the baseboard. Now, normally I’d be all like “I’m tired – it was nothing.” Not now. I KNOW it was the FOURTH mouse. And he’s UPSTAIRS next to my BEDROOM!! (yes, I know I repeated myself – it’s worth repeating) HE’S a TAD to close for me!! So, I march DOWNSTAIRS and check the trap I have set up – it’s still loaded with PB so it’s not like he’s gotten the bait – he’s just RELOCATED himself to a warmer part of the house.
Well, since my BEDROOM is right next door there is NO WAY I’m letting this RODENT live just one more minute in my house. I know that Mickey and the mice from Cinderella were all cute and fluffy - but this is a RODENT and he MUST DIE (and any/all members of his family). He is getting NO WHERE NEAR MY BEDROOM – at least not while I’m there. I have a hard and fast rule about not sharing my bed with anyone who doesn’t ‘BRING A BIG SMILE TO MY FACE’ and there “ain’t no way this creature is gonna do that” so he must go.
So last night I went to bed – traps set and hoped (even though it’s not the way I wanted to start a Monday morning) that I would have DEAD mouse this am to deal with.
Wrong. So. Effing. Wrong.
I have another smart mouse and he was able to get the PB off the trap – and probably feed his effing family of 100! GOD HELP ME!!
This morning I re-set the traps with the PB spread so thin and close to the trip of the trap grabbed my things and got the hell out of there.
If he’s not dead when I come home – I’m moving.
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