Visions of Ratatouille

I had this great heating pad...I loved it. It's not your normal heating pad...the old school kind with a cord that you plug in. No. This thing was high tech -- small, padded rectangle, with something inside (never knew what was inside), you put it in the microwave, warm it up and ahhh....relaxation. What a treat! I used it over the years and quite appreciated the ease of using it.

Mr. Country Mouse apparently also enjoys my heating pad --- and was happy to show me what was inside...corn! Yes, about two weeks ago, I opened a drawer to look for something and saw my heating pad. It was ripped open with corn all over. I knew immediately what this meant, despite being a city girl. I knew it didn't just get a hole and spill out corn. Nope, this was an animal. It had to be. I showed Josh and he said "I think I know what caused that." Really? So do I, country boy. I remain calm...for a few minutes...then I lose it a bit. I mean, come on! I don't want to share my space with these creatures. Josh is sorry, but it's not really his fault.

So with all my strength, I get it together, I smile, and I throw away my heating pad, simply saying that if I knew corn was inside, I could have probably made my own...or will now make my own, as I am sewing again, and we clearly have access to corn... but alas, this is not the end.

I know it's just a mouse. A small field mouse, likely. He can't do much harm. But I begin having visions of this mouse being out and about as I walk into the bathroom, now afraid I will step on him in the dark. Is he watching me at night? I imagine he is -- at the end of the bed -- like Ratatouille (even though that was a rat). Twitching his little whiskers, getting the last laugh on this city girl. Rationally, I have no clear thoughts on this mouse. All I see is this creature in my space.

And, he is. Because then I pull out some clothes...and yes, remenants of him nesting in my tshirts! AGH! I call Josh into the room, and he sighs. I know he is afraid I am about to lose it again. I am not about to lose it emotionally,  but I have a bad gag reflex, so I am literally about to lose it. I have to leave as I am gagging over this experience. Josh sadly tells me that it would be best if we wash all the clothes that were involved in this vicinity, which leads to 3 more loads of laundry. But I don't want to wear tshirts with mouse poop on them so, after my bitterness fades, I am okay doing this laundry. 

Now what? This is my big question, over and over. NOW WHAT?! I hope he's gone. But how do we know? And, even better yet, how do we keep him out again? Don't say it...I have already heard it at least five times in the last few weeks -- "get a cat", "get a dog". How does getting more animals solve my problems when I do not want the ones we have??? Two points I will make to counter this argument -- #1, our dog would stay outside so that does not help me if the mouse is already inside; and #2, if the mouse is not yet inside, I hear the dog can catch it -- and then shows up at the door with the mouse in his mouth. Not a sight I need in my life anymore than knowing I stepped on or saw a mouse in the dark. There are certain images in life you don't need.

My future in laws give me some "mice advice" -- my future mother-in-law states that sometimes the mice eat the poison, go into the walls, die between the walls, and then it will smell for about two weeks...and you can't do anything about it. Josh screams "Mom! Don't tell her that..."  But, she says, "It's true and she must know the truth." Only two weeks...could be worse...

So, we bait the house -- or we talk about baiting it a lot -- and then I push my fiance on the urgency of this situation. Since we have no dog/cat or even other yard animals that we care about (see story on raccoons), Josh puts poison around the house to help keep the animals out. Yay! Now on to traps...I saw them when I moved in -- the black box traps. Where are those? Josh says, "do you know how expensive those are?" Um...first of all, no (why would I have any clue about this?); second of all, I don't want to spend a lot of money for this so I don't disagree, but; third of all, weren't we just talking about paying an exterminator to take care of a snake? Priorities...

I don't care really so I will settle for any trap that gets us 1-0 over this mouse. Josh is working on traps that he says will have peanut butter or cheese on them and trap the little guy. I said, "In my closet? So basically, I will open the closet and see him dead there?" Josh says, "Um, no, you will open your closet, hear some squeaking, and then call me and say get this mouse out of here." He won't be dead. Just trapped. Special. I celebrate animal rights everywhere.

We are still on the hunt for this mouse, and I still creep into the bathroom at night. He won't get one up on me. We will battle and I will win...because after all, Mr. Mouse, you don't mess with a girl's heating pad!