OK.....I have blogged about vermin before. To read (or if you have already done so, but need a laugh, reread THIS.) There is NO WAY I can top that vignette, so don't expect it.
Well, we still have mice. Wait....that is not entirely true. We got rid of them....we didn't see hide nor hair for a long time. Then DS #1 said there was one in his room. Now he, being 8, could have imagined it, but we didn't want to take chances....especially considering that one of the little beady-eyed monsters came and ogled me while I was taking care of some "business." (*hint* I spotted him at the crime scene of that last episode and the throne WAS in use so ALL I could do was SCREAM for my hubby who did NOTHING but say, "what?" when I finally got to him.)
BUT, I digress.
We are having SERIOUS issues! We put out traps in my bathroom and DS #1's bedroom. We then added one to DH's bathroom when another greeted me as I was emptying the trash. Of course, I woke a few people with that "greeting."
Within the first day, we had caught 4. DH was using the sticky traps. He takes some sick pleasure, I think, from stomping them....he doesn't want them to die a slow and painful death so he puts them into a Walmart bag (use #289) and crushes them. BLECH! But hey....he's a guy....knock yourself out, huh?
His first tour out, he picked up the traps. I REFUSE to stomp a critter (spiders and bugs being the exception and not all the time). The sticky traps keep them alive and I can't pick up a trap, even with a live mouse. (Please see "EEEEEEK.")
Mice these days are BRAVE things. I was sitting doing the important work of emailing when something caught my eye. Mickey's nephew scurried ACROSS my kitchen floor IN broad daylight WITH ME watching him.......the furry scum!
We went through awhile without one kill. DH decided to go buy the mouse "killers" in the form of "TOMCAT" traps. (We won't put poison in the house for a few reasons.)
I asked him to pick them up....he's going to be gone for a week. Only his logic convinced me that I didn't want them breeding for another week and running all over the place.
My hubby has not even been gone 12 hours. I hear a snap and a ruckus.....don't know how else to say it....just a ruckus.
I balls it up to go check. I have my WM sack ready AND my latex gloves on. I open the door, somewhat comforted in the fact that I have the "killing" trap out. At least it won't be a fight to the death.
Open the door, and what do I see? Mighty Mouse, with his leg caught, clawing at things, squeaking, trying to get out. GRRRR! I grabbed the triggering part of the trap and pulled it into the sack, all the while with a high-pitched EEEEEEEE-EEEEEEEEEE ringing throughout the kitchen. He is still doing that, to my knowledge, in the outside trashcan.
I have sent my list of demands to my hubby for when he returns. I will also be getting a newspaper so that I may peruse the real estate section.
If anyone has a room to rent, please call!