There's an effing mouse in our effing house...I'm a pissed off poet (and I DO know it.)
There are several things that will push me over the edge into surpassing the annoying girlie-girl act, and one of them is mice...bugs aren't necessarily my forte, and admittedly, I will be the first to generously give someone else a chance at being an insect killer, but given the circumstance when I'm alone, I've been known to kick some bug ass. But mice, I've been so lucky to learn over the past day and a half, is a completely different story.
When I saw exhibit A, a mini reese's peanut butter cup, laying unwrapped on the kitchen floor Monday morning, I had my suspicions. Then, I opened the pantry door and *dun dun duunnnn* found little remnants of the foil wrapper on one of the shelves. I did not scream, however my heart started pounding a little faster and my body immediately started shivering, as if that would shake the disgusted-ness off me when my fears of a rodent in my house came to life.
I ran back upstairs and broke the news to L, who was just as creeped out as I was. Given that I was already running late, I knew I couldn't do anything about it until after work. All day I tried to distract myself from thinking about what the disgusting little vermin was doing at my house. How dare he let himself in uninvited, partying it up in the pantry, making a mess - newsflash you little a-hole - you aren't wanted!!
After breaking down my I-don't-like-to-depend-on-my-friends-for-help wall, I recruited the help of LW. He informed me he has had some experience in this area and he so kindly agreed to help a girl out. As we walked down the inspect repellent aisle at Target, I started to get the creeps and caught myself standing as far away from the shelf as possible. The thought of even having to purchase a mouse trap gives me the creeps. LW even set the traps and put them in strategically placed areas. Then it turned into a waiting game. I was hoping shortly after we finished our pizza that we would hear a SNAP, signaling my nightmare was coming to a close (and more importantly that LW would be given the chance to be the hero and would be there to clean up the aftermath) but no such luck was ours. Regardless, I was thankful for LW's help and support - he's such a good friend, and in my eyes, still a hero.
L and I had to go to bed with the unsettling feeling of a mouse roaming the house as we slept (or tried to sleep, as in my case) It was a rough night and was both relieved and scared as hell to face the morning.
Luckily I have the best roommate in the world, God bless her, and she let me wake her up at 5:30 this morning so I wouldn't have to face what we were hoping would be a dead mouse carcass alone. We slowly crept down the stairs and turned on the lights. First trap, no mouse...but wait a minute...the little effer got the peanut butter off without setting off the trap....a-hole. I didn't know we were dealing with such a sly, cunning creature until that moment. But there's still hope...we ever so cautiously opened the pantry door to check two more traps we set in there...wait, actually L so cautiously opened the door, while my pansy-ass was hiding behind her....and.....nothing. Eff. Okay, last hope, the trap we put downstairs. You know the routine by now, we slowly crept down the stairs, turned the corner and........trap found, without mouse, and without peanut butter again. What a gluttonous bastard.
So once again, I had to go to work, leaving the mouse to do whatever he damned well pleased. Once I got off of work and L and I drowned in our sorrows over steak and Bud Light at Outback, we took the advice my dad, and bought sticky traps. We have put more peanut butter on the traps we got from the night before and then surrounded those with the sticky ones. Now, I'm hoping this will do the trick, but am also more than afraid to go downstairs tomorrow morning. Once again, L said that she would step up. Actually I think her exact words were, "If we were lesbians, I'd be the butch one, huh?" To which I politely nodded.
To you, my arch-nemesis, say your last words you sick son-of-a-B, you are wanted, dead or alive. (preferably out of my sight and house where I never have to see, hear, or deal with you or any of your 'lil friends ever again.) This is war!
There are several things that will push me over the edge into surpassing the annoying girlie-girl act, and one of them is mice...bugs aren't necessarily my forte, and admittedly, I will be the first to generously give someone else a chance at being an insect killer, but given the circumstance when I'm alone, I've been known to kick some bug ass. But mice, I've been so lucky to learn over the past day and a half, is a completely different story.
When I saw exhibit A, a mini reese's peanut butter cup, laying unwrapped on the kitchen floor Monday morning, I had my suspicions. Then, I opened the pantry door and *dun dun duunnnn* found little remnants of the foil wrapper on one of the shelves. I did not scream, however my heart started pounding a little faster and my body immediately started shivering, as if that would shake the disgusted-ness off me when my fears of a rodent in my house came to life.
I ran back upstairs and broke the news to L, who was just as creeped out as I was. Given that I was already running late, I knew I couldn't do anything about it until after work. All day I tried to distract myself from thinking about what the disgusting little vermin was doing at my house. How dare he let himself in uninvited, partying it up in the pantry, making a mess - newsflash you little a-hole - you aren't wanted!!
After breaking down my I-don't-like-to-depend-on-my-friends-for-help wall, I recruited the help of LW. He informed me he has had some experience in this area and he so kindly agreed to help a girl out. As we walked down the inspect repellent aisle at Target, I started to get the creeps and caught myself standing as far away from the shelf as possible. The thought of even having to purchase a mouse trap gives me the creeps. LW even set the traps and put them in strategically placed areas. Then it turned into a waiting game. I was hoping shortly after we finished our pizza that we would hear a SNAP, signaling my nightmare was coming to a close (and more importantly that LW would be given the chance to be the hero and would be there to clean up the aftermath) but no such luck was ours. Regardless, I was thankful for LW's help and support - he's such a good friend, and in my eyes, still a hero.
L and I had to go to bed with the unsettling feeling of a mouse roaming the house as we slept (or tried to sleep, as in my case) It was a rough night and was both relieved and scared as hell to face the morning.
Luckily I have the best roommate in the world, God bless her, and she let me wake her up at 5:30 this morning so I wouldn't have to face what we were hoping would be a dead mouse carcass alone. We slowly crept down the stairs and turned on the lights. First trap, no mouse...but wait a minute...the little effer got the peanut butter off without setting off the trap....a-hole. I didn't know we were dealing with such a sly, cunning creature until that moment. But there's still hope...we ever so cautiously opened the pantry door to check two more traps we set in there...wait, actually L so cautiously opened the door, while my pansy-ass was hiding behind her....and.....nothing. Eff. Okay, last hope, the trap we put downstairs. You know the routine by now, we slowly crept down the stairs, turned the corner and........trap found, without mouse, and without peanut butter again. What a gluttonous bastard.
So once again, I had to go to work, leaving the mouse to do whatever he damned well pleased. Once I got off of work and L and I drowned in our sorrows over steak and Bud Light at Outback, we took the advice my dad, and bought sticky traps. We have put more peanut butter on the traps we got from the night before and then surrounded those with the sticky ones. Now, I'm hoping this will do the trick, but am also more than afraid to go downstairs tomorrow morning. Once again, L said that she would step up. Actually I think her exact words were, "If we were lesbians, I'd be the butch one, huh?" To which I politely nodded.
To you, my arch-nemesis, say your last words you sick son-of-a-B, you are wanted, dead or alive. (preferably out of my sight and house where I never have to see, hear, or deal with you or any of your 'lil friends ever again.) This is war!
FACT: This mouse broke into the WRONG house. Can't wait to kiss 187 goodbye, who found us this place anyway?!
ReplyDeleteI FREAK out , Freak.... with spiders. I feel your pain. I'm cool with lil mice though. I think they are cute, annoying and don't need to be all up in your food, watching yo TV,making long distance phone calls, sitting on your windowsill singing:
ReplyDelete"somewhere out there love will see us through, then we'll be together ... somewhere out there
somewhere where dreams come truuuuue."
Good luck on your war, I know you will have the last laugh! (insert evil laugh here)
I know this is unsettling (at the least) but you will get THROUGH THIS!!!!! What a little sneak. Jo
ReplyDeletea hero?! its on the internet, its gotta be true.
ReplyDelete