%$#%&*$ Mouse

I've had a mouse in my house for a week now. The little bastard has gotten brave (he made himself some oatmeal) so my husband and I put these little sticky mouse pads everywhere. Well, we finally got one. Half of his body was stuck to the pad and he was fighting hard to get away. I enjoyed every little squirm. Hubby goes outside and gets this long ass shovel to remove the trap.

"You have got to be kidding me?" I admonished him. I mean, I wasn't going to touch it but I didn't like seeing my husband unmanned by a rodent.
"I'm not kidding at all. Those suckers have fleas that can jump on you from like ten feet away."

I was dubious of his explanation but whatever...the mouse was gone and I was happy.

Yesterday morning as I came in from enjoying an early morning cup of joe on my back porch, I heard a little squeal. I paused to see if I could hear it again and checked the traps and didn't find anything so I went on about my merry little way. Later that afternoon, I was sitting at my desk (I work out of my home) and I am moving my feet around like crazy, getting up to check this and check that...clueless to everything around me. Progeny One comes in and is playing on the corner of my desk when he drops his toy. He bends down to pick it up and says..."Well we got another mouse and my Mario touched it."

"What?!" I bend down and sure enough. There lays another mouse a millimeter from where my feet were. I was wearing an awesome pair of shoes and I would have been PISSED if they would have touched that thing.

I called hubby at work.

"Did you put one of those rat things under my desk?"
"No."
"Well, we got another one."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Can you come get rid of it?"
"Baby, I'm at work. Can you not do it?"
"Absolutely not!"
Long pause...."I'll be there in a minute."

While I was waiting on him, my business phone rang. I ran and jumped into my chair and answered it. It was my best friend.

"Look, call me back on my home phone. There's a mouse in a sticky trap under my desk and I'm too scared to talk to you on this phone."

She calls back and I give her the run down on the situation.

"Girl," she says, "Those sticky pads are so inhumane. A mouse will knaw it's leg off to get away."
"I don't care."

In the background my housekeeper is babbling about her hatred mice, lizards and frogs to no one in particular. She's petrified of a critter. She once called her husband at work and made him come home because there was a frog on her front porch. I kid you not. So you know she was cutting the buck. Progeny Two is talking about how cute the mouse is and Mrs. E (housekeeper) tells him, "No it is not!" She acted like he cussed her.

"Girl," my friend tries again." Those traps are just so cruel."

"I really don't care. "

"You are not all about Stuart Little are you?" She says.

Long story longer, my little princess...the love of my life who has a smart little red bow in her fur as we speak, Annabelle, was PLAYING with it. She got the trap from behind the fridge (hence the 'squeal' I heard) and DRUG IT ALL AROUND MY HOUSE.

If I don't update my blog for a week or so, it's because I woke up one morning and found Annabelle with a trap and a mouse sitting on my bed.