I have a mouse in my house...

...bats in my belfry, and I would advise (from personal experience) that you don't attempt to set mouse traps at 11 PM after having consumed one or two (or maybe five) beverages.

How do mice know which homes on the block are inhabited by single women? Why didn't I have mouse issues when I was married and someone else could take care of these nasty little problems?




I well remember my first encounter with one of these little buggers eleven years ago, shortly after I'd moved into my new house. Chlorox (a pretty, yet fierce, mouser) was bouncing off the walls like a maniac and then kept prowling around my antique table in the living room.

Like an idiot I went to investigate.

I had a crocheted table cloth that I inherited from my great-grandmother on this table and it hung to the floor. I peered through it to see if I could figure out what Chlorox was all het up about. I couldn't see anything but she was having a fit so I got closer, and closer, and that's when I realized the table cloth was swaying slightly and there appeared to be something hanging from it. I had to back up (yes I was that close) to get a better look.

What the...

A mouse! And I had almost touched it with my nose! I thought maybe the kids had played a joke on me (like the fake puke, and dog poop kind of fun!) and had stuck a fake mouse on the crocheted lace.

But fake mice don't twitch their little ears and that's what this one did.

Twitch, twitch.

That's when I started screaming, and running around the room, and Chlorox gave me that 'see, I told you so look.'

Oh God! What to do? What to do? And I knew I couldn't kill it.

I emptied a paint can that was full of nail polish bottles that belonged to Vet Tech girl (this was back when she was Irritating Adolescent girl), grabbed a wooden spoon, and armed for battle marched into the living room. The little bugger was still swaying and twitching, and Chlorox was still frantically trying to find it but was too stupid to look up.

Taking a deep breath I stuck the can under the mouse and bonked it on the head with my wooden spoon.

Plunk, it hit the bottom of the can and screaming hysterically (me not the mouse) I slammed the lid over the top.

Chlorox was baffled.

I ran out my back door and into the yard. There, I opened the can, shook out the mouse, and ran (still screaming) back into my house.

This is only one escapade among many over the years, that I'm sure has had the neighborhood wondering if there wasn't some sort of zoning law they could have used to keep me out.

Since then, Chlorox has seen fit to gift me many times with her prone, slightly damp prizes. I've watched them run in crazy zig zag lines through my kitchen (2 nights ago), and I've been awakened by tiny, ice cold, mouse feet running across my face. I kid you not!

I even slept with one once.

No, that's not some kind of kinky confession. One morning after waking up, I finally let the cats in my room because they'd been meowing and scratching at the door all night and I was ready to kill them. So I went to make my bed, and there it was. The reason for all the restless activity. A dead mouse, all tucked into the covers where one of the little stinkers (Chlorox, I'm sure) had left it the night before.

And I'd slept with it there all night long.

Well like I mentioned before, the other night I had a mouse (who by the way was having a bad hair day) go zinging through my kitchen at around 11:00 PM where it immediately hid behind my buffet. When I tried to move the buffet a book fell by my foot, scaring the living daylights out of me, and I let out the most awful gut wrenching screams imaginable. Now this is what bothers me; all my windows were open, it was late at night, I'm sure my screams carried for miles, and yet no one came to check on me! No neighbors came running or even called to see if I was ok. I have a funny feeling that more than a few started dreaming about a for sale sign in my yard.

So I set a peanut butter loaded mouse trap (again, it's best to be sober for this) on each end of the buffet and then smugly went to bed (after checking the covers thoroughly).

I woke up the next morning to no mouse behind the buffet, and two still full, unsprung mouse traps.

But have no fear. When I got up this morning and turned on the Today show to watch Meredith Vieira my new BFF (only she doesn't know it), I wondered why my gray shag carpeting (hey, it came with the house, and will stay with the house!) was all fuzzy in one spot. Just as I went to kick it, I realized what it was.

A slightly damp, dead mouse.

That Chlorox is a good girl!