Wednesday, January 31, 2007

And then the house whispered, "GET OUT"

I arrived home last night in a foul mood around 7:30 after an excruciating three-hour meeting with my accountant (she is a lovely woman; I just hate dealing with money). I noticed a large-ish fur ball on the dining room rug (Miss Kitty likes to leave those around), felt uneasy about it, and turned the light on to discover a MOUSE. A real mouse, not a play mouse, curled up on its side.

My first reaction: Scream. But I didn't, because I'm an independent woman who is perfectly capable of ridding her house of bug and pests. I circled the mouse, holding my breath so I wouldn't scream and scare it in case it was still alive. It wasn't bloody; it looked like it was sleeping. But in the middle of my dining room floor? I know Miss Kitty had nothing to do with its demise, unless it died from fright as she stared at it. She won't chase her toy mice, so I know she won't go after a real one.

So I walked back and forth, thought I'd call Michael, remembered he was in Houston, peeked at the mouse again, tried not to scream again, thought about holding a mirror near its face to see if it was breathing, started hyperventilating. Decided to go out front and check my mail (in hopes that Rodent Monthly magazine had arrived and it would tell me how to dispose of mouse? I wasn't thinking clearly). My neighbor happened to be taking his trash out at that exact moment. He said "Hey" and I blurted, "THERESAMOUSEINMYHOUSE!" I think he said something like "I'll handle it" or "is it dead?" and then asked me for a broom and dustpan. I stood in the corner, trying to suppress my shrieking so I was holding my breath, but when he went to pick it up he jumped back and I SQUEALED(seriously) something like "OHMYGODISITALIVEIT'SGOINGTOGETME."

Neighbor didn't seem fazed. He got it into the dustpan and took it outside. When I took the broom and dustpan back, I asked him if it was dead. "I don't know, I just flung it across the street."

Jesus. That means it could COME BACK. Did I want him to bash its little mousy brains in? Maybe. I thanked him for the mouse removal, went back into the house, found my xanax, went into the kitchen to get water to take the pill and discovered that my kitchen sink was BACKING UP WITH BLACK SLUDGE. In less than 10 minutes, my house had turned from Shiny Happy Place Theater to Amityville Horror. I tried the garbage disposal and only got more black sludge and dirty water. I dry-chewed two xanax and decided I'd better start bailing the sink out before it overflowed.

I bailed into a bucket, was afraid to dump it outside BECAUSE OF THE MOUSE, so I dumped it in my bathtub, which promptly backed up. It was right around this point that I started checking the other rooms of the house to find out what demonic possession had overtaken them. If my fridge magnet letters had rearranged themselves to spell "you're dead" or if I'd even IMAGINED hearing "GET OUT" I would have run screaming from the house (after I grabbed Miss Kitty) with no shoes or jacket on.

I only got about four hours of sleep last night because I had to keep getting up to check for rodents and/or demonic sludge bubbling up from my drains. Not to mention the shame spiral I created by having to ask for help because I was afraid of a teeny little mouse.


  1. Oh I HATE mice! They totally freak me out. Enjoyed your post, though I feel badly about that since it sounds like things just went from bad to worse.

  2. Here's some magic for you:

    You hate them meeses to pieces
    And see jinxes in coincidinxes

    A pinch of salt
    Tossed over your shoulder
    Will put things right

  3. Oh, I hate stuff like that. I had a very traumatic incident with a bird in the house several years ago. The end of the story is my roommate smashing the bird with a broom--much less humane than your neighbor flinging the mouse across the street. And then, of course, you never can get to sleep.

  4. For Pete's sake!

    Mouse: Tupperware type container, place bowl over mouse, slide lid underneath. Set free at site of choosing.

    Bird: Toss large towel or light blanket over bird, gather ends together, carry outside, open and release.

    Dead Squirrel with it's head chewed off under the dining room chair: Move chairs, place plastic bag next to body, gently but firmly grasp tail (gloves optional) and slide body on to bag. Roll up, place in larger bag and dispose of properly.

    Bugs: Spray with Raid until bug stops moving, cover with paper towels to absorb extra bug killer juice, roll up newspaper, lay section of paper next to paper towel wad, use roll to scoop remains on to paper, dispose.

    You may or may not scream while doing this, but do it!

    Of course, if there is a man about, you must allow him to satisfy his hunter/protector instints by letting him do this for you.

  5. My three year old has officially taken over bug removal. It's great, even if the damn thing is lying on its back, leg a twitching, he'll holler, "Mama, I'll get that baddy ole bug!" He'll find a shoe, finish it off, and flush it. It'll be nice when he's taller and can officially be on spider duty.

  6. I'm so with you on the mouse / critter thing. They are supposed to live outside, dammit. I would've done the same thing. Or just abandoned the house and move somewhere else. F the mortgage!

  7. If you want to rid your house of unwanted rodents ask them to make a commitment and watch them run.


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...