Now before you think I am about to announce another pregnancy, let me remind you that my tubes are tied! And while such news would be rather remarkable and miraculous, what I am about to blog has nothing to do with rejoicing in new life.
In fact, it is quite the opposite. It is about a deep rooted loathing... a dreadful disgust... a wretched revulsion (hey, this is kinda fun thinking of some good words and it's making me not so mad anymore. But I digress.).
Have you guessed it? The mice are back.
It started a few weeks back already when Melina exclaimed from her bedroom in the attic "MOM?? I found a dead mouse!!" Sure enough, there in the sticky tape we'd laid out under her dresser, there was a dead mouse. My heart started pounding as I remembered last fall and the havoc those vermon wreaked! How many did we catch again, fifteen? And those were the ones CAUGHT! Who knows how many more there were! Surely the good Lord would not do this to us again??? Please, Father? Pretty, pretty, pretty please?
Melina claimed to hear "baby mice" in her walls and sure enough when grabbing some spare toilet paper to restock the bathrooms, some of the rolls had been chewed through for nesting purposes. Great. We won't be reaching for any of THOSE rolls in our moments of need!
But my kitchen seemed to remain untouched. The cereal cupboard was not full of mouse droppings nor were my cooking pans filled with them (oh I am literally shuddering re-living it all). And so far, I have not "shared" a muffin with a mouse living on my counter! (Hey, I'm pretty sure there's a kid's book about 'if you give a mouse a muffin').
But tonight... oh tonight, my dear friends, I returned from my large grocery shop at 11:00 pm and began unloading the groceries. As I was walking back into the kitchen, I swear I saw the "tail end" of a mouse scurrying beneath my stove. I stopped dead in my tracks and just whispered "Oh no!" In that moment of brilliance, I grabbed my broom. Yes, so cliche but I couldn't very wall grab my cooking utensils! I stuck the broom handle under the stove and the little bugger came running right out. I swung that broom and whacked with all my might only to watch him scurry under Avalyn's exercauser!
I picked up that thing and it scurried towards the living room with me whacking it in hot pursuit! His little feet skidded on the floor as he tried turning the corner and the end of my broom went flying off leaving me only with a stick! At the basement stairs, I poked him hard and he scurried under the door (which leads to suspended stairs). He would have fallen the whole way... good!
I ran after him, but first I put on Melina's cowboy boots (sorry, Mina) ready to stomp him if needed! I tiptoed in the basement... knowing that little bugger could be anywhere! The kids toys were everywhere offering endless opportunity for refuge but I heard something by the door to the basement laundry room. I poked a few toys with the stick just as he came running towards that door and I yelled! I slammed the door and he squeaked but still slithered the rest of the way through. All I could say was "Ew GROSS, EW GROSS, EW GROSS, GROSS, GROSS!!"
And now I am back to hearing every single creak and crack of this old house wondering if it's more mice. We had a bee infestation (killed over thirty of them in one afternoon) in the main floor laundry room, we've got crickets making themselves at home in the basement and I've even found the occasional frog down there (although thankfully not for a few years). Hmmm, anyone want to come over?
We have such a beautiful home and our heart's desire is for it to be inviting and welcoming to others. Mice, crickets and frogs do NOT make it inviting! Not even if it was a vest-wearing, conscience-telling cricket who could sing "when you wish upon a star"!! Ok, well maybe we'd charge admission, but it still wouldn't make our home inviting! :)
So if I may be so bold as to ask for your prayers, I really don't think I've got it in me to battle with mice again this fall. I'm getting 3-5 hrs of sleep per night and going hard all day long. I'm too tired to fight this battle, to clean everything thoroughly and constantly, of fretting over health risks and of just downright feeling ambushed in my own home.
And for Pete's sake, with someone having spent big bucks replacing my Bose sound system after Squeakers in the Speakers wrecked it last year (because I refused to spend that money to buy something I ALREADY HAD), if a mouse took up residence in this new one, I think I may very well go insane. With all the cats around this farm, you'd think there would be fewer mice!
And why is it that all early reader books have to do with Mouse and House? Really? Is God just sitting up there and laughing at it all? I bet you He is! And I guess if He's laughing, I should be, too. And I will, just not right now.
Goodnight, dear friends. And may this find you pest-free.