I hate these things...
So, we had a mouse in the house. I HATE mice! We hadn't had problems with them really ever and this year we've had three! The first two introduced themselves to me personally in the early morning hours and both times I hit a couple of high notes and did a bit of high-stepping as I saw him run behind the entertainment unit a few feet away. I called Mark upstairs and between my rolled up magazine and Mark trying to snap it with a towel (don't ask me why he went after it with a towel...it was seven in the morning and I don't think either one of us was completely awake) we trapped him behind the piano.
Anyway, eventually they were both captured on sticky pads...a great invention. And then we were mouse free for quite a few weeks.
Then one morning this week after Wes gets up for work and I've rolled over and curled up on his side of the bed for one last snooze before the alarm goes off I hear a light tapping on the bedroom door.
"Dinah" Wes calls out softly "Can you come help me?"
And I'm thinking "What? What in the world would you need help with?" I got up with a sigh and tried to focus my eyes in the semi-darkness. I reach for my glasses just as he said "We have a mouse in the house again. I need you to help me catch him!"
Mice are always 'hims', have you ever noticed that? Ah, but I digress.
Well, to make a long story short Wes pulled the entertainment unit apart, putting our old VHS tapes in a messy pile, pulled out drawers, spun the TV around to look behind it and see if he could scare him out of there. Nothing. I went to the broom closed and brought Wes the broom to see if poking around underneath the unit could scare him out into the open. Not that I really wanted him out in my area, but I needed to make it look like I did.
I stood at the ready barefoot in my PJ's with the first thing I had grabbed to either hit him with or throw at him, my 'Emma' DVD. Just when I had convinced myself that it was a lost cause Wes must have poked in just the right area because there he came, right for me. Why is it that we always believe that they are going to run up our legs? Which is why our legs are usually moving long before we even think of throwing something at it. I managed to stop him from running further than the couch, but that didn't stop him from magically vanishing from our sight.
He ran under the couch and simply disappeared. Wes turned the couch over, poked and prodded the cushions, with no results. Finally Wes needed to get to work and I needed to begin getting ready for work, so frustrated with our failure to capture the little furry creature Wes left.
Later in the evening Wes put out a couple of new sticky pads (The smart mouse had run around the others we had laid out! That is one smart little cookie!) and then he began to put together the ugly snappy ones, you know the ones I'm talking about. The first two came together very easily and he carefully laid them in a couple of 'runways' that we thought the mouse might take. And then he began to work on the third. I had my back to him in the kitchen when I heard the loud 'snap!' as it flew out of his hands and hit the counter.
"I hate these things!" he muttered under his breath.
I watched him pick it up and begin to maneuver the wire into the tiny slot again and before you could blink it flew out of his hands again with that loud ugly 'snap'.
"I really hate these things!"
He said it so seriously that I started to laugh, I couldn't help it. And when it happened 5 more times I laughed even harder. And every time it jumped out of his hands he said the same thing.
"I hate these things!"
Finally he got the wire to stay put on the trap and he slowly made his way to the entertainment unit, knelt down and very carefully slid the trap into place and then, yup, you guessed it. 'Snap!' It flew out of the corner and Wes muttered those same four words. By now I'm laughing so hard that the tears are rolling.
"You're a big help!" he says with a smile as he begins the process all over again. Successful after the sixth attempt he's sick of the whole thing and goes to bed early. So, it's just me and the mouse until Mark comes home. I visit with him, Mark not the mouse, for awhile about his evening, warn him where the traps are so that he doesn't accidentally step on one and I head for bed.
I had just fallen into a nice sleep when Mark came tapping on our bedroom door. It was very reminiscent of that morning when Wes came tapping for my help.
"Mom, dad" Mark calls in softly "You got him."
Wes shoots out of bed and I hear them talking as they move quickly down the hallway. They're talking about how Mark heard the 'snap' from his room downstairs and how far the trap flew, yadda, yadda, yadda. As they dispose of the body I turn over and decide to go back to sleep. I've had enough excitement for one day. As I begin to fall asleep I smile, because in my mind I still hear the harsh 'snap' followed by "I hate these things!"
"Hate what is evil, cling to what is good." Romans 12:9
Anyway, eventually they were both captured on sticky pads...a great invention. And then we were mouse free for quite a few weeks.
Then one morning this week after Wes gets up for work and I've rolled over and curled up on his side of the bed for one last snooze before the alarm goes off I hear a light tapping on the bedroom door.
"Dinah" Wes calls out softly "Can you come help me?"
And I'm thinking "What? What in the world would you need help with?" I got up with a sigh and tried to focus my eyes in the semi-darkness. I reach for my glasses just as he said "We have a mouse in the house again. I need you to help me catch him!"
Mice are always 'hims', have you ever noticed that? Ah, but I digress.
Well, to make a long story short Wes pulled the entertainment unit apart, putting our old VHS tapes in a messy pile, pulled out drawers, spun the TV around to look behind it and see if he could scare him out of there. Nothing. I went to the broom closed and brought Wes the broom to see if poking around underneath the unit could scare him out into the open. Not that I really wanted him out in my area, but I needed to make it look like I did.
I stood at the ready barefoot in my PJ's with the first thing I had grabbed to either hit him with or throw at him, my 'Emma' DVD. Just when I had convinced myself that it was a lost cause Wes must have poked in just the right area because there he came, right for me. Why is it that we always believe that they are going to run up our legs? Which is why our legs are usually moving long before we even think of throwing something at it. I managed to stop him from running further than the couch, but that didn't stop him from magically vanishing from our sight.
He ran under the couch and simply disappeared. Wes turned the couch over, poked and prodded the cushions, with no results. Finally Wes needed to get to work and I needed to begin getting ready for work, so frustrated with our failure to capture the little furry creature Wes left.
Later in the evening Wes put out a couple of new sticky pads (The smart mouse had run around the others we had laid out! That is one smart little cookie!) and then he began to put together the ugly snappy ones, you know the ones I'm talking about. The first two came together very easily and he carefully laid them in a couple of 'runways' that we thought the mouse might take. And then he began to work on the third. I had my back to him in the kitchen when I heard the loud 'snap!' as it flew out of his hands and hit the counter.
"I hate these things!" he muttered under his breath.
I watched him pick it up and begin to maneuver the wire into the tiny slot again and before you could blink it flew out of his hands again with that loud ugly 'snap'.
"I really hate these things!"
He said it so seriously that I started to laugh, I couldn't help it. And when it happened 5 more times I laughed even harder. And every time it jumped out of his hands he said the same thing.
"I hate these things!"
Finally he got the wire to stay put on the trap and he slowly made his way to the entertainment unit, knelt down and very carefully slid the trap into place and then, yup, you guessed it. 'Snap!' It flew out of the corner and Wes muttered those same four words. By now I'm laughing so hard that the tears are rolling.
"You're a big help!" he says with a smile as he begins the process all over again. Successful after the sixth attempt he's sick of the whole thing and goes to bed early. So, it's just me and the mouse until Mark comes home. I visit with him, Mark not the mouse, for awhile about his evening, warn him where the traps are so that he doesn't accidentally step on one and I head for bed.
I had just fallen into a nice sleep when Mark came tapping on our bedroom door. It was very reminiscent of that morning when Wes came tapping for my help.
"Mom, dad" Mark calls in softly "You got him."
Wes shoots out of bed and I hear them talking as they move quickly down the hallway. They're talking about how Mark heard the 'snap' from his room downstairs and how far the trap flew, yadda, yadda, yadda. As they dispose of the body I turn over and decide to go back to sleep. I've had enough excitement for one day. As I begin to fall asleep I smile, because in my mind I still hear the harsh 'snap' followed by "I hate these things!"
"Hate what is evil, cling to what is good." Romans 12:9
Comments
Lillian
I've been a bit lazy, I'll try to do better:) Thanks for the encouragement!!
Dinah