© 2022 Rachel L. Shumate | All rights reserved.
As a grown-ass woman, you probably wouldn’t think I’d have a flashlight sitting on my nightstand to ward off things that go bump in the night. A week ago, it wasn’t there and I would have been laughing right along with you over such childish behavior. However, a few nights ago, I heard a decidedly unsettling noise that made me sit straight up in bed and shine my cell phone’s flashlight all around the room. And to my utter horror, as I scanned my surroundings, I witnessed a mouse scurry across my fancy, upholstered chair that sits in the corner of the room. A freaking mouse!!! In. My. Bedroom. I heard myself make an involuntary strangled yelping noise, and proceeded to FLIP OUT. I jabbed my slumbering husband, but Kendall was unfazed.
Not finding anything quickly enough to throw at it, I hopped out of bed and attempted to search the room. I’d like to tell you that I was all brave about it, but in actuality I was hunched over in a panic and using the light of my cell phone to peer under all the furniture (not exactly sure of wanting success). In desperation, I ran to the other room, seized the unsuspecting sleeping cat, and hightailed it back to the bedroom in hopes that she was in the mood to become a mouser. I then proceeded to shine the light of my cell phone all over the floor and repeatedly told the cat, “Get the mouse! Get the mouse!” Instead, she kept trying to jump up on the bed, more interested in getting cozy than catching a mouse in the wee hours of the morning. Each time, I snatched her back up, placed her on the floor, and continued with the frantic search and encouraging chant. Kendall, who was more alert (and annoyed) by that point, mumbled a number of things that were incoherent because he was still laying down with his CPAP mask on. Since I couldn’t understand him, and he clearly wasn’t going to be of any assistance, I ignored him and continued my search. (My knight in shining armor, folks…) I have no doubt, the entire scene was ridiculous.
I’m sure you could already guess… my mouse hunt proved fruitless. The mouse was gone, but my dread was not. I seriously considered going to sleep with Olivia in her room. However, in the end I decided that wouldn’t be setting a very good example for my daughter. So, I reluctantly crawled back in bed, feeling totally defeated. I slept with my head under the covers and had nightmares about mice scampering across my face while I slept, and mouse poop being in my house.
To his credit, Kendall went to the store early the next morning to get mouse traps – while I Lysoled everything. I suppose this somewhat makes up for his total lack of concern and help the night before. Though I did find it extra amusing when the mouse traps kept snapping on him while he was attempting to set them. (Spiteful, maybe – but still funny.) I set some as well since we have an ongoing debate regarding the mouse trap menu. He thinks peanut butter works best for bait, and I think they would prefer Cheez-its. Unfortunately, we still don’t know. And at this point, I don’t even care who’s right. I just want the furry little creeps trapped and gone.
Our house is now decorated with half a dozen traps placed in strategic areas, some weird plug-in nightlight things that supposedly emit a noise that mice find disagreeable, and the exterminators came today and set bait stations under our house. I’m hoping and praying at least one of these methods eliminates these new unwanted guests. This is not a Disney movie and I know dang well these mice aren’t here to sing and help with the housework. They need to go! And I will continue to spaz about it until they do.
I also don’t even understand how this happened. I’m borderline OCD so it’s not like my house is messy. We have at least three resident hawks and an eagle in our back yard (and probably snakes to boot). Not to mention, inside we have a Maine Coon cat the size of a small lion. Though I’ve been told that the cat food is likely what lured the mice in the house to begin with. (Oh, the irony…)
So, yeah – fun times. I suppose my only consolation is that I didn’t stand on a chair and shriek like all the old cliché scenes on TV. I was on a bed. Thank you very much. Haha!
