I Have a New Outlook On Life
It’s just you and me. Right here. Right now. You think you’ve got all the power because I have already shown my cards, that I am afraid, and hurt, and feeling intimidated. But it ends today, this power struggle, this emotional game. I am stepping up. I just want to say I’m sorry in advance, as this might get ugly.
I have a mouse in my house.
Now to be honest he is absolutely adorable as far as mice go. I have dealt with my share of mice and the deer mice are huge and not to be messed with, but this guy, this little tiny house mouse is starting to grow on me, but it wasn’t always this way.
I was sitting at the kitchen table one evening, probably writing here, when it happened. He simply came up the carpeted basement stairs, very quietly as they say, and rounded the corner and looked right at me. Then I did what any woman who has grown up with too many 50’s era sitcoms would do, I stood up on my chair and screamed. Not quite Eeekkk! but something pretty close to that, I believe. It’s all a blur. All I know is that I was afraid to come down lest my feet touch the floor where I guess I thought that he would immediately scurry over and run up my leg.
He took cover behind the refrigerator when he saw me but I was scared out of my wits because I started imagining a whole clan of them down there setting up camp in my laundry room. What to do? He was obviously the scout, sent to check things out way up at crumb central, too stupid to recognize that lights on means “retreat” –wait until suspect goes to bed. How long has this been going on I kept thinking, that they have gotten to the point, so lax with their reconnaissance operation that they are sending up the uninitiated, the new guy.
Fortunately I am prepared for any and all household events. I got the trap, filled it with gourmet peanut butter and put it down beside said appliance, I guess expecting that he would just run right out and dive in. But honestly, would I want to stand there and watch the guillotine descend? No. And, did I really think he was that stupid? No. It’s just that I knew that l was never going to be able to go to sleep until this issue had been resolved. I was a little delirious with shock however, incredulous and somewhat hurt that he had penetrated the airtight fortress that is the concrete flooring under the washing machine, and the two inch wide crevice surrounding it along the wall. What a feat of engineering. Might as well put some cat food down, as the stray cats will be wandering in there any day now, and then I will no longer have a mouse problem. Note to self: secure the perimeter.
So after a night spent sure that they were not only in my bed but also racing around the bathroom and tripping each other running up and down the stairs, despite my dog sleeping right next to me, I woke to discover that I had been outsmarted. Shocking, I know. Gourmet peanut butter gone, neck snapper in the upright position. Beautiful.
So he and I have kind of become friends now, as the trap seems to have jammed. He is a loner, preferring to snack in the basement now that I have provided him with a food source not requiring the stairs. I see his solitary, telltale little mouse droppings, evidence of his bachelorhood and I am no longer scared. I won’t challenge him. I am not intimidated the way I was when I did my best Lucy Riccardo imitation on the chair. I do not feel that he is my nemesis any longer, in fact I look for him, check the trap every day hoping he is NOT in there, relieved. There now little fella, I say, I’ll get some more peanut butter, as I see you’re out.
Perhaps the trap is faulty. (You think?) or maybe I am becoming old and lonely, and soon I will be befriending insects and naming them as well, like a prisoner in solitary, creating my own little world of not entirely imaginary friends.
Funny, it started out as a rivalry, but I caved, or perhaps the broken trap is symbolic in some way, forcing me to stretch my passivity to extraordinary lengths, but at the same time providing me with a distraction, reminding me that there is more than one way to look at a situation. I don’t want to fight with him, or be scared. I no longer have nightmares. In fact, the day the latch skips and he meets his end I might even be a little sad.
I’m not sure how this happened, this change in attitude, but I’m glad it did.
I don’t want to fight,
Not with a mouse,
Not in my house,
Not with a louse,
Or my ex spouse.
I just want to be left alone, well except for all of my little friends.
I have a mouse in my house.
Now to be honest he is absolutely adorable as far as mice go. I have dealt with my share of mice and the deer mice are huge and not to be messed with, but this guy, this little tiny house mouse is starting to grow on me, but it wasn’t always this way.
I was sitting at the kitchen table one evening, probably writing here, when it happened. He simply came up the carpeted ba
He took cover behind the refrigerator when he saw me but I was scared out of my wits because I started imagining a whole clan of them down there setting up camp in my laundry room. What to do? He was obviously the scout, sent to check things out way up at crumb central, too stupid to recognize that lights on means “retreat” –wait until suspect goes to bed. How long has this been going on I kept thinking, that they have gotten to the point, so lax with their reconnaissance operation that they are sending up the uninitiated, the new guy.
Fortunately I am prepared for any and all household events. I got the trap, filled it with gourmet peanut butter and put it down beside said appliance, I guess expecting that he would just run right out and dive in. But honestly, would I want to stand there and watch the guillotine descend? No. And, did I really think he was that stupid? No. It’s just that I knew that l was never going to be able to go to sleep until this issue had been resolved. I was a little delirious with shock however, incredulous and somewhat hurt that he had penetrated the airtight fortress that is the concrete flooring under the washing machine, and the two inch wide crevice surrounding it along the wall. What a feat of engineering. Might as well put some cat food down, as the stray cats will be wandering in there any day now, and then I will no longer have a mouse problem. Note to self: secure the perimeter.
So after a night spent sure that they were not only in my bed but also racing around the bathroom and tripping each other running up and down the stairs, despite my dog sleeping right next to me, I woke to discover that I had been outsmarted. Shocking, I know. Gourmet peanut butter gone, neck snapper in the upright position. Beautiful.
So he and I have kind of become friends now, as the trap seems to have jammed. He is a loner, preferring to snack in the ba
Perhaps the trap is faulty. (You think?) or maybe I am becoming old and lonely, and soon I will be befriending insects and naming them as well, like a prisoner in solitary, creating my own little world of not entirely imaginary friends.
Funny, it started out as a rivalry, but I caved, or perhaps the broken trap is symbolic in some way, forcing me to stretch my passivity to extraordinary lengths, but at the same time providing me with a distraction, reminding me that there is more than one way to look at a situation. I don’t want to fight with him, or be scared. I no longer have nightmares. In fact, the day the latch skips and he meets his end I might even be a little sad.
I’m not sure how this happened, this change in attitude, but I’m glad it did.
I don’t want to fight,
Not with a mouse,
Not in my house,
Not with a louse,
Or my ex spouse.
I just want to be left alone, well except for all of my little friends.
By:
Quintesse
Age:
46-50
,
Female
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