Friday, September 2, 2011

Happy Anniversary with mice???


Well, tomorrow, September 3rd,  is our 22nd wedding anniversary.  I should write about our great love story.  How we've survived the unthinkable time and time again, bringing us closer, making our love stronger.  Its all true.  Our love is stronger because of all we've endured (which I'm not allowed to blog about).  We both try to find the humor in even the most awful times.  And I should write about how when we kiss, he still gives me butterflies.   BUT.......

THEN A MOUSE RAN PAST ME 
and I was thinking, somehow,
THIS IS ALL LORENS' FAULT.  

He thought it was a big joke, like I was making a big deal over nothing.  He probably didn't set the traps right, he probably didn't put fresh peanut butter on them, thinking I'm over exaggerating.  Those death pellets he told me to buy are probably mouse energy bars.

I'VE DECIDED, THIS ISN'T MY WAR TO FIGHT
HE'S OUR GENERAL
THIS IS HIS WAR

I've decided he should probably sleep on the couch downstairs tonight with Mickey & Minnie and all their little friends, to try and capture the enemy.  That's the front line.  I feel like my home is infested and I want to move out, TONIGHT.  Yes, this is somehow all Lorens' fault.  He should stay on the front line until there are no mice left.  

I've tried to block the story from my mind of the scratching on Mike's ceiling, inches from my bedroom.  No, no, that can't be true, that never happened.  Yeah, that's it,  I'm safe upstairs.  No, no, there are no mice upstairs by me.  That's impossible.

(DENIAL, IT'S NOT JUST A RIVER IN EGYPT)

I found a fire emergency ladder you can hang out your window.  I'll be using that to leave the house.  I'll pee in a bucket.  Our children can bring me food.  

So this is my happy anniversary post to him.  
Happy Anniversary Lorens,  
enjoy the first floor.  

CALL ME WHEN ALL THE MICE ARE DEAD.

UPDATE:  Well, its now the morning of the 3rd.  Lorens listened to me complain non stop last night until he put fresh peanut butter on all the traps.  He came upstairs at about midnight and said he had a present for me, IT WAS A DEAD MOUSE IN A SNAP TRAP!!!  I said, "Oh honey, its just what I always wanted!"  We hugged & kissed and made up.  My king sized bed wouldn't of been the same without my king in it.  This morning he went downstairs and started coffee and said there was another present for me.  It was another dead mouse in another snap trap.  Two anniversary presents in the last 24 hours!!!  This is the best anniversary ever!
Sorry Mickey & Minnie, this is OUR castle, 
yours was in Orlando, Florida.  
You should have stayed there.  
Happy Anniversary 
to my husband, my king, my Sultan, 
my general, my love, 
Lorens.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

"The" mouse (because there's only one, right? Right? RIGHT?!?)

On Tuesday night, I was sitting on the couch when a mouse ran alongside the kitchen floor.  I screamed bloody murder and the entire family came running, assuming there was an emergency.  I was on top of the back of the couch by then, shaking.  If there were chandeliers, I'd have been hanging from them.

 I HATE RODENTS.  

If it was a venomous snake, no problem.  But I have an unnatural fear of rodents as if THEY are venomous.  My family all laughed at me as I ran upstairs, swearing to never step foot downstairs again.  I told my husband I'd start to pee in a bucket and jump out the 2nd story window to go to work if I had to until he caught THE mouse.  So he set some traps and at about 10pm, he heard a SNAP behind the fridge.  Sure enough, there was a dead mouse in the trap.  Yay!!!!  My hero!!!!  I assumed  it was safe to venture back downstairs to the main floor.  

The next day I spent every penny I had at tad at the grocery store.  I came home, put it all away and started a nice dinner with all the trimmings.  I was going to have Persian rice with dinner as well.  But when I picked up the burlap sack, I discovered "the" mouse had chewed holes in it and so I had to throw away 10lbs of rice.  GREAT.  

Last night, I was having trouble falling asleep again and was watching T.V. downstairs at about 2am.   Out of the corner of my eye, I saw ANOTHER mouse run behind the fridge & stove.  I screamed, frozen in fear.  No one came to save me this time, they were all sleeping.  I jumped like a gazelle to the stairs and went back upstairs thinking I'd be safe up there and how I'm never stepping foot downstairs again.

Then this morning, Mike (who's bedroom is next to ours on the 2nd floor) told me he had trouble sleeping last night.  He said he kept hearing a loud scratching noise.  He opened his closet door and said the scratching was coming from the ceiling of his closet, near the light.


My daughter said, 
"Don't you know Mom, for every one mouse you see, 
there's THREE mice you don't see?"

I tried to block out what she was saying.
I was thinking, NO, NO, NO.  There's only one mouse.
He's in the kitchen.  There are no mice upstairs. That's impossible.

But as reality set in, and I realized that there were multiple mice,
possible even upstairs, I felt like that scene from that Star Trek movie 
with the Borg, when Captain Picard says,  "They've adapted."

And, NATURALLY (for me), 
I was thinking I'll be moving into my car now.  

This morning, as I was leaving for work, I put 1 foot in the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and ran towards the door, slipping and hurting myself because of my irrational fear of mice.
After I was out of the house, I brushed myself off and laughed at myself.  I opened up the water and took a drink, it was warm.  That's odd.  I assumed it didn't have enough time in the fridge to get cold yet.  So I imagined it was a nice cold drink as I drank my warm water.

Then this afternoon, as I was walking home from work,  I was thinking of the ice cold water and other drinks that awaited me.  I was also thinking of the many options I thought I had for lunch and dinner.   The temperature is about 95 in Chicago today, about 105 in the school bus that I drive.   But when I got home and opened the fridge, all of the food was warm.  The brand new gallon of milk had already started to curl.  I looked behind the fridge, wires had been chewed.  My fridge was broken.
At that moment, something inside of me snapped
because I'm not scared of the mice anymore.

I walked to the store and bought more traps and put them in every room in the house.  I bought snap traps and glue traps.  I bought the pellets that they eat and die.  I put some peanut butter on them and I am waiting with war paint on (in my imagination).
I bleached every inch of my kitchen and called the landlord to come look at my fridge.  He said he can't come by until this weekend.  Great.  

I BLAME THE MICE.
MY FEAR HAS TURNED TO ANGER.
THIS IS WAR.

Stories of dead mice hopefully will follow this post in the very near future......