The other day I was going about my usual business of cleaning the house for the billionth time of the day when I noticed something unusual. A bag of chips sitting on my counter had a hole in it that looked as if it was made with teeth. Tiny teeth. Not like Peyton's teeth when she tries to get into her fourth bag of Cheetos in one day even though I tell her NO. But instead, tiny teeth that kind of resembled mice teeth. In my head alarms were ringing and screaming saying THIS ISN'T GOOD! But surely I wouldn't have mice in my house. No way. All I do is clean. Yes I have a husband, two kids, and two dogs but I do keep my house fairly clean. I texted Brad and told him to pick up some mouse traps on the way home from work, but reassured him (and myself) that we didn't need them and instead I am just being paranoid. That was Thursday.
Saturday morning at 5:45 Campbell decides it's time to eat. I stumbled into the kitchen half asleep, made a bottle in the dark because it's entirely too early to turn on the lights, and as I am about to head back into the bedroom something catches my eye. I look into the kitchen sink and think my mind is playing a game on me because SURELY that isn't a furry little thing sitting there watching me. After a good 15 seconds of standing utterly still and debating on whether or not I should turn on the light, I finally reach over and hit the switch. Lo and behold, there is a MOUSE sitting there so still in my sink looking straight at me. I was too scared to scream bloody murder like my mind was wanting me to, so there we sat and played chicken for at least a minute, seeing who would make the first move. Finally, I manage to call out Brad's name and told him to get in here this instant. He walks in, looks at me and cannot figure out what the hell is going on and why I am frozen with a look of horror on my face. My mouth wasn't working again so I could only point to the monster that was sitting there, daring me to make the first move. After he became aware of what I was staring at, I hauled ass into the bedroom and took refuge for most of the day, letting Brad deal with our unwanted guests.
Not how I wanted to start my weekend.
Saturday afternoon I realized that more than one critter had decided to move in. My husband definitely thinks I am such a girl now after hearing me scream nonstop in the highest pitch ever whenever something moved. Or when I saw a shadow. Or when I thought I found mouse droppings but really it was a piece of lint. In fact, I'm sure we need to get his hearing checked now. I am not going to lie, I was totally that girl that screamed and scrambled onto the nearest table after seeing a tiny mouse. P.S - climbing onto a table is a hard thing to do when having a newborn and a two-year old in your hands. Just FYI.
Brad played whack-a-mole for the majority of the weekend and five little mice have gone to mice heaven so far. We did see one more but that little sucker escaped and hopefully he is realizing that it is time to pack up and move onto greener pastures. Like the back yard. Like now please.
So little mice, I didn't invite you. You have overstayed your welcome. Well, technically you were never welcomed but we won't go there. Find another place to call home! Or else you may become paralyzed by some horrifying, ear piercing, girly screams.
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