In the division of household chores I can be something of a wuss if the occasion demands, but this time I knew it wouldn't work.
Positively, no one stands in front of me in the line which sings the praises of rodents, and reptiles and most insects. My voice is heard first and loudest extolling their virtues. However, I draw a line, not in the sand, but at the front door.
Something just hasn't felt right around here the past few days. I couldn't figure it out, and I didn't want to talk about it either. I just wanted whatever bad vibe was lingering to go away.
So last evening, at cocktail time, #1 son quietly says, "oh my, don't tell my wife". What? answers I. There, a mouse. The fog lifted. Immediately, I knew what I always knew, but didn't want to face.
So after, everyone goes to bed, son and I lay out a couple of traps. Please don't tell PETA. Almost instantly, bam.
From the other room, "What's that noise?" Nothing, I lied, as I set another trap. Bam, bam.
Now, Mrs. T is up. What's going on? I had to fess up.
God, I hate getting rid of mouse meat. Makes me wish for a mouser. I set a few more traps and went to bed.
Around 4AM I get a poke in the ribs. Got another one, my wife says. Get it, you don't want the girls to get up and see the traps, or a mouse. Grumble.
Four down and mouse free all day. Plugged many of the possible entry points, and have so far avoided being noticed by our guests. Tonight I'll set a few more traps and pray for an undisturbed sleep.
37 minutes ago