One evening last week as I was setting the table, I noticed a couple of caraway seeds had fallen from the counter top into the silverware drawer next to the spoons. I discarded them and moved the bread further away. The next day there were two more, this time next to the forks. Also, the bread was whole wheat and not rye. I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer but I know a mouse when I don’t see one.
I couldn’t recall ever having pests in the house aside from the time back in The Pipeman Cometh when we thought we did but didn’t and I knew exactly what I had to do: tell Husband. He’s a social worker and he always knows the best way to handle things. I told him I think we have mice and he told me he thinks I should buy traps. I depend on Husband’s clarity and insightful direction.
Furthermore, he specified that I buy the old-fashioned mousetraps that you put a morsel of food in and the rodent either outsmarts the trap or gets his neck snapped in half. He said those are way more efficient and humane than the glue ones which have a way of turning mice into mini marathon runners dragging their asses around the kitchen in circles until you find something to snap their necks in half. The traps came in packs of four and they were cheap so I bought two packs. We decided to set them out before we went upstate for the weekend and then deal with the carnage when we returned.
Just before we left, Daughter stopped by the house to pick up some stored belongings and say a quick hello on her way elsewhere. After tossing something in the kitchen garbage she turned to me surprised.
DTR: There’s a mousetrap behind the garbage pail.
OSV: Yes, we have a problem but we’re dealing with it.
DTR: I have never seen a mousetrap in this kitchen before. Omigod, there’s one next to the refrigerator, too. And along the baseboards. Are you infested? How many traps did you put out?
OSV: Eight.
DTR: Eight?! How many mice do you think you have?
OSV: No way to know.
DTR: Well, sure there is. How much crap have you found?
OSV: Four.
DTR: You think it’s from four mice?
OSV: No, four droppings.
DTR: Four droppings? Four individual turds? Mom, you have one constipated mouse. Don’t you think this is overkill?
OSV: We can only hope.
DTR: I’m starting to feel sorry for the mouse.
OSV: Well, don’t worry your pretty little head because his is coming off.
DTR: You’re scaring me.
OSV: Am I? I was going to say “Make my day” but now you’ll have to settle for “Have a nice weekend.”
DTR: Yeah. . . you too.
She gave me a quick smile and then scampered off without so much as a bite to eat.
PROFILES are the subject of Daughter’s Featured Fotos
donny
goth
lintel
clipper