I do not like mice.  Those furry little beasties manage to scare in the same manner as snakes (probably because my cousin used to torment me with the snake my aunt kept as a pet and the mice they bred as snake food).  I think it’s safe to say that I loath mice!!

I wrote this at the end of April 2008.  Believe me, it’s all true!!


At the beginning of December 2007, we adopted a new kitten, that we named Eris.  She’s a sweet little ball of fluff, which constantly keeps us amused.  She’s a cutie, even falling asleep beside my computer.

Today, while the kids were at school, I decided to eat my lunch on a TV tray in the living room, so I could watch CSI Miami from last night.  Eris came out and was being all buddy-buddy with me.  That’s okay, she’s cute, warm, and snuggly.

I was enjoying my plate of spaghetti when I noticed Eris out of the corner of my eye.  She dropped something beside my feet.  Since she likes to play with balls of paper, I didn’t really pay much mind.  She was playing with it some more, when I took a better look at it.  My first reaction was to pull my bare feet up onto the ottoman, out of the way!  Then I started freaking out because it was . . . . . a MOUSE!!  Eek!!

I called my husband, who is out of town on business.  No answer!  I left a very frantic, very loud voicemail message.  I debated whom I should call next.  Do I call my friend, Kate, who’s at work with bunch of kids??  No. . . She couldn’t help.  Should I call my neighbor down the street, to come to my house and get rid of the carcass?  Tempting, but no.  That would require me to actually get up off of the loveseat to let her in my house.  Scratch that idea.  I’m becoming more and more hysterical by the moment.

In desperation, I call my mom.  Moms love us and can help with any problem, right?  I tell her about the problem:  dead mouse, living room, me unable to move.  She laughed at me!  “Marie, what are you going to do?  Wait for Mike to come home?”  Um, I’m thinking about it.  “And where would you go?”  I’d take the kids to a motel, buying clothes and food to get us through until tomorrow night.  That made her laugh even harder!  “Marie, you need to calm down.”  I know that, but I can’t since there’s a freakin’ mouse beside me!!

Mom managed to calm me down.  I literally leapt out of my loveseat, across the living room.  Mom then said, “Marie, I want you to go into the kitchen and get some paper towels.”  That’s well and good, Mom, but I’m gonna get some shoes on!  That’s my first priority!

I get my slippers on and go into the kitchen and grab most of a full roll of paper towels.  Next, I get on a pair of latex gloves (similar to what doctors wear).  Finally, I feel that I’m ready to do mouse-carcass removal duty.

I get back to the living room, literally shaking in my slippers, to pick up the mouse.  Eris doesn’t want to let go of her latest toy.  She likes this toy.  She picks it up in her mouth, feints to the right.  I follow her, telling her to drop the mouse.  She feints left.  Again, I order her to drop a mouse (note to self:  cats do not take orders very well).  Finally, when it looks as if she’ll bolt again with the mouse in her mouth, I pick up a Little Person (from SOC #4’s barn) and toss it at the cat.  Eris drops the mouse and runs off.

I throw all of the paper towels on the body, but cannot get myself to pick it up, even with the latex gloves on.   Frantically, I search for something that would allow me to pick up the mouse without actually touching it.  My eyes search through the rooms that I can see.  There by the trashcan, I spy my broom and dustpan.  Yes!  I can do this!

I run to the kitchen and get my broom and dustpan.  On the way back, I unlock the sliding glass door that leads to the deck.  I bring the broom and dustpan back to the living room, where Eris is nosing around the paper towel enshrouded mousie.  I shoo Eris away from the mouse, then stare stupidly at mound of paper towels.  How in the world am I going to pick this darn thing up without actually touching it??

I carefully place the dustpan near the mouse remains.  Shaking, I use the broom to sweep the mouse and paper towels up into the dustpan.  Success!  The mouse is now on the dustpan!

I pick up the dustpan, holding it out as far in front of me as is possible, running for the sliding glass door.  I open the door and fling the dustpan out in front of me, without even leaving the doorway.  I watch the mouse remains fly through the air and land in the tall grass of the woods, just past our deck.  I quickly close the door, locking it so that the mouse’s relatives cannot come in, and start the clean up process.  This includes washing my hands twice with antibacterial soap in very hot water, spraying the broom and dustpan with Lysol, and spraying the same Lysol on the carpet in the living room, where the mouse had been.  Next, I used the vacuum in the living room, because you cannot be too careful.  Tomorrow, I plan to use a carpet cleaner.  That should take care of the matter once and for all!