Mickey is the only mouse I tolerate...

I love living in the country... I love living in the country... I love living in the country...

I must repeat this in my head due to the fact that I hate living in the country right now.

Why, you ask? Because I hate rodents. I can do frogs and snakes and lizards and spiders. But, when a pest comes into my home and tries to eat my food and builds a nest in our Ziploc bags while we're at church and doesn't properly die from a normal trap and runs it's gross bloody self around the house while Jimmy and I are BOTH screaming like little girls- I am not a happy camper. Nope. Not at all. I know this all sounds nasty... mostly because it is. We set out more traps hoping to catch the mouse that escaped a trap and ran out from under the stove while Jimmy and I were bleaching the whole kitchen. I cannot sleep. I am afraid that the mouse will come devour me in my sleep.

Here's how it all went down folks:

I was down visiting a friend when Jimmy called from home. He informed me of two things.
1) He had to scrub diaper contents out from under the finger nails of a child
2) AND he found a mouse nest in the kitchen drawer- in which he woke up the mouse while trying to get a Ziploc bag. HE WOKE UP THE MOUSE WHILE TRYING TO GET A ZIPLOC BAG!!! It popped it's head out and tried to have a conversation with my husband!

So, on the way home- true ox in the mire moment- I ran to Target to get traps.
And the setting of traps began. While Jimmy and I were watching a TV show (The Bachelorette finale part 1, if you must know), we heard the tell tale 'snap!' come from the kitchen. Like the wimps that we are, we held each other while slowly pulling out the drawer under the stove. The trap went off, but the mouse was not in its clutches! It was just laying beside the trap bleeding. Ewww.... because we both did not have the courage to deal right then, we decided to finish the episode and come back to clean up. (all happening at 11:30 pm, btw)
When we came back, there was NO MOUSE. It escaped! There was a nasty mouse dying in my kitchen somewhere.
So, I break out the gloves and serious bleach. Jimmy and I go to town. We pulled out the stove and sprayed everything down like crazy when... the mouse scuttles out from under something! I understand why the cliché is for someone to jump on a chair. I will not be lying when I tell you I wanted to do just that. I ran into the office to grab a bucket. when I came back, Jimmy had one of his Sunday shoes on his hand. I suppose the only way to kill a mouse on the Sabbath is to do so with the proper dress.

We had a game plan, moved the freezer, waited to attack. No mouse. We both saw it hide under the freezer, but cannot find it now. So, here I am at 12:30 at night sitting wide awake, writing a blog post just hoping that the mouse will not retaliate and find my bed. The traps we set out on the perimeter of the freezer are so close, that it would have to be a ninja mouse to miss any one of them.
I just hope the mouse is actually under the freezer, like we saw. But this mouse has tricked us once before...

If you do not see a blog post from me tomorrow, please know that I am standing on a chair with a Sunday shoe in my hand and that the mouse defeated the Great Stephanie Graham.