'M' is for Menace
Sunday, December 13, 2009 at 8:32PM Every night before she goes to her bedroom, Esme says: "Keep the trolls and the mice and all the bad things out."
Every. Single. Night.
She's been doing this since last year when we had several unwanted house guests of the furry, four-footed variety. I'm pretty sure it started directly after my grand and comical flip out when one of the mice made its way from the kitchen into the living room.
I've protected my daughter and her bedroom from trolls, mice and bad things... until now.
Lately, a mouse family or two or ten have set up residence in our house. It started with scattered dog food on the basement stairs. I couldn't believe what a mess Kent was making every night as he scooped Uma's food from the bag. Every morning, I'd walk down the steps, see the food littering the stairs and curse him under my breath for being such a slob.
Then I saw the tell-tale droppings. And a mouse in the kitchen late one night. And another during quiet time.
I called the mouse guy the day I heard them scratching in the kitchen walls. ENOUGH!
I kid you not when I tell you that the first trap snapped less than 15 minutes after the mouse guy set it up. I literally jumped from my chair in the other room. Uma whimpered. Then another shortly after. By the end of the day, four (or was it five?) of the creeps bit the dust under the stove. Kent dubbed it the "kill zone."
It was bloody carnage, I tell you.
The next day more. The mouse guy returned with a tub of Jif Peanut Butter and new traps. The death toll climbed. SIX. SEVEN. EIGHT.
I told Kent I was developing post-traumatic stress disorder from the snapping. I'm not alone. Uma is so frightened she's like a toddler on ice when the door opens. She slides and skids and falls; she can't escape their smell, the sound of their feet and the THWAK! of the traps fast enough.
But all this time I've harbored a tinge of regret for the little buggers. I try to avoid looking at them; I mostly leave them for Kent to clean up. One day, though, I saw one dead on his side. His eyes closed. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully: dreaming of cheese and a life of leisure. Esme saw him too. She vocalized what I was thinking.
"Awwww."
Any sadness I felt for the vermin disappeared in an instant. Last night, I heard an odd rustling in her closet and a flash light search today confirmed my suspicion. Mouse poo! In my baby's closet!
I know it sounds absurd but the idea that mice skulked through her room - the room that she's asked me to protect every night for a year - knocked the air from me. It enraged me too. Because it's one more reminder that despite our best efforts, despite our earnest promises, we simply can't protect our children. From vermin. From mean kids in the lunch room. From heartbreak. From sick people. From life.
I intend to fight, though. I set up a trap and I'll be calling the mouse guy in the morning. WAR ON!
Reader Comments (4)
Bet I know where the trolls part in Esme's incantation comes from: Spiderwick! We recently finished the first Beyond Spiderwick book. and we've had Ava in our room several wee-morns claiming she sees Thimbletack or Mulgarath hiding in the shadows near her closet door.
Here's hoping those little vermin start spreading the word among their tiny brethren that your house is not a safe place to hide out. I agree: Critters are fine--I'm good with spiders, snakes, what have you--until they get close to my girls, or their beds or food. Then it's STOMP SQUISH SNAP!
I finally got time to read your blog. It is so much fun to read the stories.
I would like to share that we also have had mice in our house. Peanut butter is their favorite food and works everytime. Mickey and I do not want to kill them, he has caught them bare handed and let them loose outside. I have shared my stories with the employees how Mickey has caught and released them. They think he is a special person to take the time to spare their lifes.He believes that everything deserves to have a purpose in life.
You are right in sharing your menapause experience. My advice is to talk to your mother and grandmother about their experiences with how they got thru it. I must tell you that I did not have any major problems except lots of sweating, which I had never had before. I did pass thru it without any changes on how I felt as a women. I kept on doing all the same things. I believe that attitude has alot to do with any major changes in your life. I also enjoyed not having my monthly periods which I always found so anoying.
I admire your casual attitude with your children and I wish more Del Ray Mom's were like you. You have a beautiful family and I do not mean just looks.
Hey Dana! I love reading your blog. I especially loved this mouse story b/c I have one of my own I'd like to share with you so you know you're not along in the mouse war. First let me say, we have a cat. And a dog. The dog chases the cat all the time. The cat chases the mice when they're a problem. Sometimes I feel as though I'm in a Tom & Jerry cartoon. Anyways, one morning while getting my daughter Chloe ready for school, we walked into the kitchen and I saw that our cat Bootsy, was playing with something on the laundry room floor. Before I even had a chance to think I screamed "A Mouse!" That sent Chloe right to my side witnessing the cat "play" with the little mouse. Now I didn't want my little Chloe, about 4 or 5 at the time, to witness such an act. So again, without thinking, I got after the cat and she let the mouse GO! It ran under the washing machine. YUCK! Later that day Bootsy eventually "got" the mouse and left it as a disturbing little present for me, which I cleaned up before Chloe saw it. So now, my husband and my 2 boys, who don't really care for the cat, think she's worth keeping, not b/c she's cute and cuddly, but b/c she kills the mice.
Thanks for reading. And thanks especially for sharing the story. I totally relate to screaming "MOUSE!" I don't know what it is about them - in my house - that makes me freak out. Having a cat around the house would definitely help the problem... because one could run right over the dog's nose and she wouldn't budge. My husband's allergic, though, so no kitties anytime soon.