Mouse Invasion

and I ain't talkin' about Mickey.

Does the title explain it enough?

Do I need to go into the details of getting no sleep last week because I'd be up late and have a mouse leap by me and then I'd be too terrified to sleep?

Do I really need to go into the details of BFG finding a retarded mouse sitting in the kitchen floor one evening? She handled it wonderfully by the way (the situation, not the mouse). Not at all like me who morphs into this panic-stricken, screaming, running, crazy adrenaline-filled being. No, BFG calmly backs out of the kitchen and go gets Rhett (our hero!), who swooped in with one of our bath towels, (Lovely choice to catch a mouse, don'tcha think?) which turned out to be overkill since the mouse was all gimpish and couldn't really move. Rhett "got rid" of the mouse. We whooped, hollered, and cheered. Even considered cancelling the exterminator who was coming the next morning. And a few hours later . . . chomp, chomp, chomp. Who knew a mouse could chew so loud? Yep, we've got(had) at least two. I don't know why I thought the lame mouse could have possible been the one leaping past me at night.

For all my friends who may visit me here, the exterminator did come and laid about 15 bait traps around the inside of the house. So, I think it's safe now.

Ya know, the best part----I can finally sleep again. Now, if only I could get rid of the nightmares about finding dead mice in my house, all would be well.

Mama Said