Weapons of Mouse Destruction

I have to admit I have a knack for making the mundane humorous or at least noteworthy.  But I have been struggling with writing this post because I want to share an experience and the event itself was so damn funny there’s no way to capture the true humor without having been there.  I wonder then, do I write it and risk not doing it justice, or do I go yet another day trying to capture its essence? 

 

 

I guess the event itself wasn’t all that interesting.  I mean, I know on some level that mice exist and that they also dart across kitchens occasionally.  But not in my house.  Not in my kitchen.  Not with guests at our home.  What if they think we live in infestation that’s somehow connected to the dirty laundry that began as a simple pile then transformed into a mound and now exists as a heap – a heap of filthy laundry that is somehow responsible for the backboneless Hanta virus carrier that zipped across my kitchen this week? 

 

 

After its first pass through the kitchen we spent at least 20 minutes talking ourselves out of the possibility that there was actually a mouse in the house.  And right when I had myself convinced that I could actually go to bed in my house. without. a. mouse. the damn thing scurried past once again.  This time we all got a good look. 

The Gay Dean is known for her kindness and kinship with animals – mice included.  Instead of rat poison (which is an option in the free world) we instead decided to put peanut butter on a cracker, open the back door and put the cracker on the threshold.  Certainly the poor confused creature made its way into my home by accident and would gladly escape to freedom as soon as it saw the great outdoors.  But just in case, I planned to slam the door shut to prevent reentry. 

 

The Future College President has quite a reputation with mice.  The thing that struck me most about the Future College President is that she never gives up.  She has a stick-to-it-ive-ness that is an admired trait for College Presidents which is only one reason that I truly believe she’ll rise to those ranks one day.  To give you an example of her perseverance, I’ll share this story.  Once the Future College President had a rodent living within her walls.  She couldn’t get to it despite a desire to knock down sheet rock and remove baseboard.  Had this rodent arrived in her walls prior to meeting the Gay Dean, I’m sure that’s what she would have done.  But the Gay Dean is a respectable woman (no offense to FCP) and wouldn’t allow it.  One would think that Future College President would have to co-exist with the rodent until it chose to appear on the reachable side of the wall.  Nope.  The Future College President was determined to make her walls the most inhospitable of locations for the rodent to make its home.  How did she do this you ask?  She placed stereos up against the wall each day and then flipped the dial to the heaviest of all heavy metal stations and then turned them to full-blast as she walked out of the house to go to work each morning.  That is what the rodent was up against.  Eventually the rodent found somewhere else to live.  Perhaps so did her neighbors.   

 

 

Future College President also has quite a reputation for the monetary damage sustained in the human/mouse battle.  This is the reason our partners refused to give us a baseball bat.  We were only allowed a Swiffer WetJet and a pool noodle as our Weapons of Mouse Destruction.  A baseball bat was out of the question.  After all, we aren’t renters. 

 

We quieted down.  The mouse peaked out from under the stove and made a dash to the door.  I was convinced that the plan was going smoothly right up until the mouse grabbed the cracker.  Then the selfish little fucker headed back under the stove with the entire cracker in its mouth.  I lunged toward the creature screaming.  “Can’t you see I’m trying to help you?  Go.  Outside!  Go!” I lost control of myself.  I swung my Swiffer WetJet fervently.  Each swing hitting right where the mouse had been just a moment before.  I’d seen housewives in movies acting like they’d lost their last brain cell.  BUT THAT IS WHAT A MOUSE DOES TO AN OTHERWISE REASONABLE PERSON.   The mouse shot back under the stove and at that moment I realized 2 things simultaneously.

  1. The mouse found the mansion of mousedoms.  The mooches aren’t exactly the cleanest eaters in town.  And the Mammas aren’t exactly known as the best cleaners in town either.  The mouse probably comes out to feast each and every night after we go to bed.  Hell, it probably thought we owed it thanks for being the only one to clean up at night. 
  2. I wanted the furry little creature dead.  DEAD!  I couldn’t just give it freedom.  I had to ensure it never came back.

So the Future College President and I headed to the nearest all-night grocery store.  We arrived shortly after midnight and bought only mouse traps.  I’ve had middle-of-the-night emergency grocery store runs before.  Tampons and Midol scream of an emergency.  Most recently our emergency trip included Pedialyte and bananas.  But I’d never had to brave the grocery store at midnight for mouse traps.  The Gay Dean would be disappointed that the store had live-traps for sale, but we chose the spring-loaded bar trap.  If that sounds inhumane, just check out the WIKI for various other mouse traps – including traps that deliver a lethal dose of electricity, glue traps that keep the mouse stuck on the trap, and inert gas traps that kill the mouse with carbon dioxide and then notifies the user via e-mail that the mouse has been effectively gassed.  Apparently PETA has recognized this as an “animal friendly achievement.”  I’m not sure why, it isn’t as though the mouse sends the e-mail itself.  Now that would be an achievement. 

 

 

In any case, we returned home.  Loaded the trap.  And watched.  And waited.  And watched.  And waited.  It seems that the cracker and peanut butter had been enough of a midnight snack for the rodent.  We went to bed after 1 AM exhausted, defeated, and outwitted by a mouse.  The trap was empty the next morning.  The trap remains unsuccessful. 

 

 

The score:  Home Team = 0     Visitor= 1

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9 Responses to “Weapons of Mouse Destruction”

  1. Kelly B Says:

    speakign of mouse traps… i work in a building that not only has no windows…it has mice, the T runs right behind the building… its “inner city” to the fullest… In our kitchen area as well as numerous other areas in the program have wonderfully large mouse traps… just in case a rat happens to tromp past…

    earlier in the summer we had to relocate because our a/c was on the fritz, and really there is nothing quite like the stench of 30 adults with mental illness and winter jackets on in 90 degree heat…

    upon our return, a furry creature filled the trap in the kitchen. i donned 3 pairs of gloves and two trash bags to pick it up. i started with the trap end, and well… i ripped the mouse in half… his nether regions were” stuck” to the floor… i screamed like the girl my dad wanted me to be and i did the dance of a decapitated dead mouse.

    i hope you catch your (wo)man!!
    happy hunting!

  2. TooeleTwins Says:

    You are not alone.

    No. Mice. In. My. House. Imagine my shock and disgust when one climbed across a box in the pantry RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME this spring – and the pantry is pretty darn clean! Our pantry does not have a door to the great outdoors. In fact, we would have to herd the dirtly little creature down a hall, up some stairs, and through the kitchen to even find a door.

    I did not wait until midnight. I did not get the swiffer out. I proceeded immediately to the store and purchased poison. Yes, poison – because (although cute) it should be dead – not in my pantry. (Yes – I can hear what you’re saying – it’s likely dead IN my pantry now, but I haven’t found it – not for sake of looking.)

    I haven’t seen him or any of his filthy friends since. And, yes, I do feel some guilt. He really was kind of cute.

  3. Carrie Says:

    wanna borrow a shotgun?

  4. Chicory Says:

    I actually have a gruesome story about a spring-loaded bar trap and a mouse. I’ll spare your innocent readers, but will fill you in later.

    BTW — have your walls always been that shade of green? I remember the Infamous Night wondering if you’d painted recently…

  5. kim Says:

    my perception of ruthie and future college president… they were like lucy and ethel at their best – not sure which was which, maybe they switched back and forth, but that is certainly who they personified!

  6. tgd Says:

    and to think i elected to go to bed after the cracker and peanut butter went on the doorstep….can’t believe i didn’t hear the screaming, AND i missed the grocery store run!

  7. Doug Says:

    six years of college and it still took you 4 pages to tell us you have a mouse in your house. do you need a operator for Carrie’s shotgun

    Doug

  8. Sedalb Says:

    One word of advice: Remember where you put the mouse trap. Someone we both know and love once forgot she put a trap out and when moving out of her home 5 years later discovered a mouse skeleton in the trap. She then called me even though I was hundreds of miles away to order me to come home early to get rid of the bones.
    (Sidenote from Mrs. Sedalb: Sometimes I think I’ve had it with our cats. Thanks for reminding me that I’d rather deal with cat hair than a mouse. Do you want to try a weekend trade: 2 cats for 2 boys?)

  9. starrhillgirl Says:

    Don’t y’all have cats out there in the West? There are many here in Starrhill – I can ship you one or two.

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