Well, I commited murder today. Twice. Whew! It sure is nice to get that out in the open. Thank goodness for blogs, eh?
About a week ago the kids casually informed us that they saw a mouse crawl behind the fridge. We half-heartedly took a look in the kitchen and as little Feivel skittered across the room and out of reach between the dishwasher and the cabinets, I heard myself let out a scream and flee the premises. Thus began Operation Get That Thing Out of My House.
I asked friends (you know, Facebook friends) how to get rid of the rodent. The common suggestion was "mousetraps." B-duh! Have you
seen the How to Kill Things section of Target? Come on! Give me something I can use. Should I use wood traps, glue traps, d-con traps, live traps, or poison? Do I
really need a headlamp? Cheese vs. peanut butter? What say ye?
Then there was the whole "What's the most humane way to get rid of it?" dilemna. My problem with that was I didn't care. It was in my house! I wasn't sleeping at night because everything sounded like Feivel saying "I'm still here! I'm still here! I'm still here!" My house had never been cleaner. It was madness. Jeff was up from one until three this morning moving all 12 mousetraps I bought and baiting them with chocolate chips because we were that desperate for sleep.
This morning, we caught the mouse . . . and his friend, The Other Mouse. They were stuck to a couple of glue traps and Jeff was at work so it was my job to dispose of them. I put them in bags and took them to the trash outside. "You didn't kill them?" Jeff asked later. I hadn't thought of that. I felt all icky inside. I asked him how he would have killed them and he said, "I was thinking I would smother it with a rag and then hit it over the head with a hammer. Either that or drown it." WHAT?! What have these rodents
done to us?!
So now I'm a murderer with a crazy husband, a clean house, and a very disappointed daughter. (In order to make sure Chloe didn't live in fear of the mouse, I told her it was probably just here to help her make a gown for the ball.) Beware the March Madness, dudes. BEWARE!
P.S. No animals were harmed in the making of this post. (Except those two mice.) These are pictures from our trip to the zoo this past Monday.
*NOTE* I have removed comments for this post. I appreciate your thoughts, but I think this conversation has run it's course. The point of this post was to tell you that I had a traumatic experience and felt bad about the way I handled it. So those of you who came to this blog with the intention of telling me that I handled it wrong and should feel bad about it, there's just no need. I appreciate that my friends and family got my meaning. You are good and true.
