Last night, I arrived home around 8:00 p.m. Instead of hassling me as usual, Big Star let me eat six girl scout cookies before giving me 'a look'. She was on a mission and there was no way to stop or avoid her. She changed into the appropriate clothing and sported some gloves. While I set all the traps, she stretched out and did some jumping jacks. Armed with my handy dandy shovel and six shiny new mouse traps, I followed Erin to the garage. She confidently opened the garage door while I stood "outside warding off evil spirits," holding garbage bags, and providing moral support.
Time now was 9:00 p.m.
I said, "People are going to think we're crazy."
She turned to me and said, "Well, it's better than the mice thinking we're family."
She had a point. So the laboring began. Erin put all the recycling in garbage bags while I held them open. She organized all the toys, containers, and what not so it was clean and piled nicely in a corner for us to take out on Thursday. We did not see one mouse the entire time we were outside, however, we recovered two of the missing traps and two of the missing mice. Meanwhile, I was praying to the 'dear lord baby Jesus' and repeating the mantra "I'm ok, you're ok" in a seemingly autistic way over and over again in order to stave off a heart attack. I was beyond the point of anxiety and panic. I successfully set the traps on the garage floor so we could call it a night.
We returned upstairs to start cleaning. Big Star headed straight to the cupboard and reached for the pretzels. I gave her 'a look' to which she replied, "What? I can't help it. I'm an emotional eater!" For fear of a scene much like the ones in "Arachnophobia" (only with mice) taking place in our kitchen, we swept, cleaned, and scrubbed the counter tops and contemplated how we could get our dear friend Ross to the good old U.S.A. or a sponsorship from MLB.
An hour goes by and it's bedtime. Erin and I marched downstairs to the garage to check our traps. We were in good shape as none of the traps had been set. I was beginning to think we caught most of them, that is until this morning.
I woke up at 8:00 a.m. to Erin shrieking, "OH MY GOD!!" I rushed out of bed to see what it was. I was greeted by a scene resembling the streets of Baghdad. There were dead mice everywhere. I put on my harry potters and grabbed a trash bag while mentioning to Erin to grab the tongs. She sent the muchachos to the car and assumed the position. We collected more dead mice and assessed the two empty traps. She disposed of the nasty buggers and I agreed to stop at the store to get more resources. I definitely need therapy now.
TOTAL TRAPS RECOVERED: TWO
TOTAL MICE RECOVERED: THREE
TOTAL MICE MISSING: TWO
TOTAL MICE DEAD: TEN
TOTAL ANXIETY ATTACKS: 2,467
I think it's time to call the professionals.