The mouse incident part II: Mouse meets gym bag

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Well, it happened again. I was getting ready for work in the morning, when I heard a scream followed by heavy breathing from the husband, coming from downstairs.  I heard no large crash, so I assumed that there was no immediate injury, but I shouted, "Are you okay?"  "Yes..." was the response.  So I shout, "What is the matter?"  "I don't want to tell you."  Uh oh, that only means one thing.  Mouse incident.

So I have never heard the hubs scream quite like that, but I suppose anyone would when you find a LIVE MOUSE IN YOUR GYM BAG.  After careful investigation, it was determined that the mouse was most interested in the trail mix as a food source.  I am not sure how he sniffed that out over the gym bag smell, but I have underestimated them before.  The next question, I know, is why does one have trail mix in their gym bag.  Even worse, neither of us knew where the mouse ran off to.  Hopefully not my nice shoe collection.

We had left some of the cabinets open in the house to ensure the pipes stayed warm enough, and we discovered new weaknesses in the fortress.  We handily spent another several hours of our lives filling every possible point of entry into the house.  Our teamwork to blindly fill the hole behind the dishwasher was a true testament to marriage.  I also learned that apparently, the mice are partial to peanut butter cups, and their preferred location for eating them is behind the dishwasher.  Well, that shit is solved.

Dishwasher lair

As an alternative viewpoint, my friend mentioned that maybe the mice were like Cinderella's mice, and they would help clean the house.  And now I am sort of sad that we couldn't have been better friends, the mice and me.  But if their activities so far are any indication, they weren't interested in being magical, sewing me a dress for the ball, or driving me to work in a pumpkin carriage.  So, they are out.

Mice - 2, Me - 0.  Well played.

The mouse incident.

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I came home after a full day at work, ready to "cook" something for dinner (a.k.a. probably heat a frozen pizza), and there they were.  The signs with all certainty that a mouse had been there.

My food safety training has taught me to know the signs of a mouse, and I recognized the chew marks and tiny poop pellets immediately and horror began to set in.  While it was clear that the mouse danger zone had been contained to two small cabinet areas of the kitchen, I still felt robbed of my personal security.  Ironically, a mouse had come into the cabinet under the kitchen sink to eat none other than the mouse attractant bottle we had left there.  Mmm, I bet that plastic was tasty, and we sort of set ourselves up for the loss on that one.

We took everything out of the drawers and put them on the counters so that we could clean: pots, pans, utensils.  A stack of cookie sheets here, measuring cups there.  Since no stores were open to solve the problem of the entrance hole, my better half set two traps overnight until we could fill the holes the next day.  I am fine with that, until the next morning.

When my 4:45 a.m. alarm went off, I didn't even get to snooze because I was too horrified by the rustling noise.  I was certain that the noise I heard was a creature walking on the pile of cookie sheets.  The hubs couldn't sleep over my whimpering, so with a twinge of annoyance assuming that I was making it up, he got up to look.  Oh shit, there it was again.

Based on his findings (this is all legend since I refused to look myself), he had caught a mouse in both traps, although the one in the drawer did not enjoy a quick end and the horrible noise was him MOVING AROUND IN THE KITCHEN DRAWER.  I couldn't stand getting ready for work just listening to that all morning, so he showed his utmost braverism and removed the outlaw from the house.  Worst. noise. ever.  As I got into my car for work, I hear rustling coming from the garbage can in the garage.

I sent this picture to the hubs and asked him if this was the mouse we caught:

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It wasn't, which is good.  I don't like to hurt mice that are that fashionable and down-to-earth.

You will be happy to know that our kitchen is now creature-free.  Although the sound still haunts me.