A Mouse In The House
There’s a mouse in my house. Or possibly multiple mice. That’s yet to be determined and unsettling to me.
How do I know that there’s a mouse in the house? Well, aside from the obvious “signs” they leave in the cupboard under the sink, I had an interesting experience this morning.
Around 5am, I wake up to my roommate shrieking “Oh my God! Ew! Ew! Ew!”. I hear her leave to walk the dog. Figure that the crisis is averted. Shortly after that, I hear her come back in, and shriek “There it is! There it is!” (I assume that she was encouraging the dog to chase it). I then drifted back to sleep.
Well, of course, I ended up dreaming about mice the rest of the time that I was asleep! Woke up, and started getting ready for work.
Knowing that there’s a mouse in your house (at least if you’re me) automatically makes you paranoid. Every time you reach for something, you’re going to touch a mouse. Every time you open a cupboard, a mouse is going to jump out at you. Reaching behind your bed to unplug your phone charger is going to result in you putting your hand in the middle of a mouse den (do mice live in dens?).
Needless to say, I now have mice on the brain. Thankfully, I’ll be out of town until Monday night. Hopefully by then the mouse problem will be taken care of.
(Side note: how is it that we have a dog and a cat in the house, and neither of them care to catch the mice?)