Thursday, July 20, 2006

Mouse House

We’ve had vermin problems at our apartment again. I’m not sure how it happened, but one day we were suddenly overrun by mice. At first, they were all baby mice, mice that were too small to run, just kinda wobble around. They were so slow that Beth (otherwise known as wifey) and I were able to catch them merely by walking over and sticking a Styrofoam cup over them. They were also quite adorable, with tiny bodies, but huge ears and feet.

Adorable or not, they could not be allowed to roam free, so we decided to take decisive action and bought some traps. The mice were too small to set off the regular spring variety, so we got some glue traps, thinking this would solve the problem. Not. The little blighters just walked over them. I’d go check the trap, only to find the cheese gone and little mouse paw prints all over the glue.

Assuming we were helpless to stop them in their conquest, the mice began getting bolder. Soon, they were wandering around the apartment throughout the day, demanding food and entertainment. I’d be sitting at my computer and look over to see a mouse strolling across the carpet toward the kitchen. He’d pass by with a wave and a smirk, as if to say,

“Don’t mind me, I’m just going to the kitchen for a beer.”

The breaking point was reached one night while I was lying in bed, attempting to drop off to sleep. Suddenly, I felt something leaping on my back. Tossing the covers aside, I jumped out of bed.

“What’s the matter?” Beth asked.
“I felt something.”

Beth hazarded a peek under the tossed blanket. “Ohmygoodnessitsamouse!” She was out of bed so fast that several windows shattered as a result of the ensuing sonic boom.

The mice finally got us so spooked that any little thing set us off. I’d be brushing my teeth and a drop of water would fall on my bare foot, causing me to charge about the bathroom with the enthusiasm of a dedicated track star. We couldn’t sleep, because every time we’d lie down, we’d either be awakened by invading mice, or one of us would think we felt one of the nasty creatures crawling around the bed.

At last, at 2:00 am this morning, we got sick of it and declared war. We got out of bed and drove down to a local department store, which is open 24 hours. Spending our entire life's savings on equipment, we came home with enough spring traps, poison, and glue boards to take on an elephant herd. Within thirty minutes, our apartment closely resembled the 1944 Normandy coastline, with the mice the invading army. We caught two in traps and captured another one alive, which I disposed of in the dumpster.

So far today, we haven’t seen any new mice, so we’re hopeful that we have beaten back their onslaught. I hope so, because with all our defense mechanisms, this apartment isn’t even safe for humans and getting up in the night to use the bathroom is to take your toe’s life into your own hands. If the problem continues, we may have to borrow Sprocket, one of FooDaddy’s cool cats, and let him do his stuff.

7 comments:

Paul FooDaddy Brand said...

I like the idea of a mouse on a beer run. Especially a teeny little baby one.

Sprocket mainly specializes in moths and houseflies, and he'd probably be scared of mice.

Even little drunk ones.

Anonymous said...

They were so brazen that I half expected them to be in our bed with the covers pulled up sleeping on our pillows when we go back from the store with the traps.

Raymond Betancourt said...

Yep, sneaking around the kitchen is one thing, but when they start jumping on you as you sleep,all bets are off, no matter how little they are.

By the way, did you get your money back on those glue traps?

Anonymous said...

I'm laughing at this because I'm having my own war with what I THINK is one mouse. I even sat and stared him down one night. He had that look as if to say, "I shall rule, oh ye human." I have one of those automatic traps set-no luck. But the little booger has gathered/stored I'm assuming- at least 3 handfuls of poison.

Jack W. Regan said...

Nah, DBB. Fortunately, the apartment complex supplied them free. Good thing, too, otherwise there would be another ridiculous lawsuit headed for court and probably a multi-million dollar settlement.

Jack W. Regan said...

I know the feeling, Beth. One night, we sat up perched on chairs and waited with capturing mechanisms (Beth-my wife-had a styrofoam cup and I had a small wastebasket).

I put a piece of cheese on the floor and waiting patiently for the mouse. Within minutes, it appeared from under the closet door, but instead of investigating the succulent cheese I had provided, he went in the opposite direction-into the bedroom, which was ablaze with light.

There's something wrong when the mouse is smarter than the human. Almost makes you feel like you're the one being hunted.

Jack W. Regan said...

Now, I never said the mouse actually found any beer, just that he was going in search of some...