Wednesday, January 20, 2016


We had the most persistent, sneaky mouse in the world at our house for Christmas.  Dozens of all sorts of mouse traps, in all sorts of places, and we could not catch him.

Finally, Abby suggested lining the entire floor of the linen closet with traps (previously we just had a line under the door) and a few hours later he was squeaking and stuck.  I breathed a big sigh of relief and prepared myself to begin mounds of laundry.

Then the next morning there was another one in a sneaky cracker trap MJL had devised.  (One cracker on the outside of the trap, and then another on the inside, to lull mousey into complacency).  That was great, and also a little awful, because I really thought we were just dealing with one.

No signs of anyone else since, and I finally got through washing EVERYTHING in our linen closet and almost everything in my closet.  

I keep feeling like I should be doing laundry, since it's basically been my fun time activity the past few weeks.  

I was awfully glad I had been through the closets and done a major paring down in the last year.  

This chore, of cleaning up mouse poo-made me ridiculously angry.  I can't think of anyone the anger was directed toward, just a general fury.  I'm positive there are more little nooks I'll find that need to be vacuumed and cloroxed to death, and I'm not looking forward to it.  

Are there jobs that make you crazy angry?  

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