I am so sick of the mouse problem. I suppose compared to other people, we really dont' have it that bad, since this is only mouse #3. It's just that we don't know if this is the end of the mice problem, or if there are more lurking about.
Mouse #1 was captured and by the time we found the trap closed (it's one of those traps that has a trap door and you don't have to see the mouse, thank goodness), it was well into the day. When Dennis proudly held it up to show me the caught mouse, I freaked out and ran.
Mouse #2, which I didn't blog about because I was too grossed out, was found floating in our set tub. Dennis thinks that it actually died in the vacuum (he thinks it crawled up through the vacuum hose) because he was emptying out the vacuum into the set tub and was rinsing it out, when he discovered the mouse floating in the set tub. When he told me this, I didn't go near the set tub for weeks. I also didn't vacuum for weeks. The new name for the vacuum is "the mouse coffin".
And now Mouse #3, the poor hungry thing, who had to come out looking for food while we were still up and active in the house, was discovered by me when I came into the kitchen to take out my clay beads from the oven. I saw a dark blur race back between the pantry and the dishwasher. I managed to not scream (just gasped) and told Dennis that there was yet another mouse in the house.
He didn't believe me, because he had a hard time believing that a mouse would dare to come out when we were just in the other room. But he set a trap anyway, and as we sat on the couch watching TV, I was half-considering going into my room as I was sure that if the mouse had come out once while we were still awake, then it would surely come out again. But instead I stayed in the living room with Dennis. And then suddenly I heard the sound of the trap door slam shut, and I made some half-stifled screams and raced down the hall, breaking a strict rule of silence while the kids are sleeping and slammed the door shut. All I could remember was Dennis's face while I was making the muffled scream sounds; he was looking at me confused and incredulous, and I could tell he didn't hear the trap door shut. Well, he would figure it out eventually. I sure wasn't going to go back and explain it to him.
Sure enough, I eventually heard the front door open and shut and I knew Dennis was taking the poor dead mouse out to the garbage. I admit, I really shoudn't react so strongly to mice getting killed, but it bothers me to no end to know that a living thing, even if it's a rodent, has gotten killed. I just wish there was a better way to get rid of mice. All I could hear over and over in my head was that trap door slamming shut and I would start to freak out all over again. I would never make it in the country.
And then the bedroom door opened, and I thought it was Dennis coming to tell me that the dirty deed was done, but instead it was Max. He had heard the commotion and had guessed what happened. I'll never forget the compassion that Max showed me; he stood in the center of the room, with a nervous smile on his face, rocking back and forth (also a nervous or agitated gesture that he shows) and he made no eye contact with me. It was as though seeing me so upset was worrying him to the point where he couldn't look at me. But he didn't let that stop him and he said, "It's okay. The mouse is gone now. Daddy took the trap out." And he stood there continuing to rock back and forth, making no eye contact, saying over and over, "It's okay, it's okay." I realized that I had scared him and told him to come sit by me and I hugged him and he patted my back still trying to comfort me. I asked him if I scared him and he said, "Yes, a little, because I heard you scream. I thought something terrible must have happened, but then I saw that it was just a mouse got killed."
Well, to me, that was terrible enough, but it helped me put things into perspective. Still, I get shivers.
When we were sending Max back to bed, he turned around and said, "Some day Mama, when we die, you'll cry over us more than you do over a mouse." Kids say the strangest things sometimes.
I don't know what it is about mice and insects lately. It seems that they're all coming into the house. The other night I was up until 11:30 at night killing mosquitoes. I finally gave up when I killed 30. I was too tired to do anymore.
Anyway, Max is right I know. I shouldn't allow myself to get so upset over a mouse. It's just part of living in a house. I do so much better with insects though. I don't mind killing those.
Tonight Dennis called me a Mouseketeer. I've got news for Mr.Funny Guy though. I'm not emptying the garbage until garbage day.
Did you know that St.Martin de Porres used to talk to the animals? His monastery had a mouse problem and he was ordered to put rat poison out because the rats were eating all their bread. He put out the poison but then when he saw one of the rats, he talked to them and told them to not come back again. From there on, the mice/rats didn't bother the monastery. You see? St.Martin didn't like killing mice either.
St.Martin de Porres, pray for us, and talk to our mice!
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