I had just gotten under the blankets when I realized that I left my orthodontic trays in the kitchen. I ran back downstairs to get them, turned on the kitchen light, and there he was.
Not a burglar. Not Prince Charming. A mouse, and it sure as hell wasn't Mickey. Wasn't Minnie either.
Here's the rant: What the hell was a mouse doing in my kitchen?! There was no food out. My kitchen was clean. What the $@!# ?! Everyone says that he was probably coming in from the cold and looking for something to eat and a warm place to sleep. Well, he wasn't invited, nor is he paying rent. Unacceptable! Not what I needed to see in my house, especially not so close to my friend and her baby coming for a visit. Can't have the baby hangin' out in the house until I know that damn thing is dead and gone. And how the hell did he get in the house?! I am not happy. Dealing with this sort of crap is man's work. Yes, I said it, man's work. Spiders I can handle, but mice and snakes I don't do. They are best left for a strong, fearless man to deal with. Kudos to the women who don't mind killing a mouse or a snake, but that's not me.
Ran along the ledge and then dashed behind the microwave. I screamed. Then he ran across the stove and dove into the hole under the burner. I screamed again.
And here comes Matilda. She didn't run down the steps after my first scream, she non-chalantly trotted down the steps. She was in no hurry. The second time I screamed, I looked down to see her peering from behind my legs with a look like "What's going on here?".
Here's the rant: What kind of dog do I have?! She never barked. She never even stepped foot in the kitchen. She just stood there at the door, peeking around the corner to see what I was so worked up about. She didn't run out in front of me and bark at the intruder. No. She just stood there with a sheepish look on her face. Some dog. She was more like a 'fraidy cat. Hmph. I need a strong masculine dog that will protect me. Matilda is cuddly and all, but damn.
Getting to sleep last night would have been difficult had it not been for Lunesta. When I woke up this morning, and went into the kitchen, my OCD kicked in. I couldn't stop myself. I cleaned the stove and oven top to bottom. I even took out each of the burners and scrubbed the little things underneath with Brillo pads. I wiped down all of the counters with a bleach solution. I ran the dishwasher, even though it was full of dishes that were already clean. I swept the floor, vaccuumed the floor, and mopped the floor. I put all of the dog food in a ziplock bag (Going to get a plastic bin for it today). And then I vaccuumed the rest of the first floor.
I got to work around 9:30, but I felt much better.
I was going to call the landlord, but I didn't want him laughing at me. I'm on my way to Lowe's to find something to get rid of this thing myself. But I will be calling a man to come and throw it away once it's dead.
Not a burglar. Not Prince Charming. A mouse, and it sure as hell wasn't Mickey. Wasn't Minnie either.
Here's the rant: What the hell was a mouse doing in my kitchen?! There was no food out. My kitchen was clean. What the $@!# ?! Everyone says that he was probably coming in from the cold and looking for something to eat and a warm place to sleep. Well, he wasn't invited, nor is he paying rent. Unacceptable! Not what I needed to see in my house, especially not so close to my friend and her baby coming for a visit. Can't have the baby hangin' out in the house until I know that damn thing is dead and gone. And how the hell did he get in the house?! I am not happy. Dealing with this sort of crap is man's work. Yes, I said it, man's work. Spiders I can handle, but mice and snakes I don't do. They are best left for a strong, fearless man to deal with. Kudos to the women who don't mind killing a mouse or a snake, but that's not me.
Ran along the ledge and then dashed behind the microwave. I screamed. Then he ran across the stove and dove into the hole under the burner. I screamed again.
And here comes Matilda. She didn't run down the steps after my first scream, she non-chalantly trotted down the steps. She was in no hurry. The second time I screamed, I looked down to see her peering from behind my legs with a look like "What's going on here?".
Here's the rant: What kind of dog do I have?! She never barked. She never even stepped foot in the kitchen. She just stood there at the door, peeking around the corner to see what I was so worked up about. She didn't run out in front of me and bark at the intruder. No. She just stood there with a sheepish look on her face. Some dog. She was more like a 'fraidy cat. Hmph. I need a strong masculine dog that will protect me. Matilda is cuddly and all, but damn.
Getting to sleep last night would have been difficult had it not been for Lunesta. When I woke up this morning, and went into the kitchen, my OCD kicked in. I couldn't stop myself. I cleaned the stove and oven top to bottom. I even took out each of the burners and scrubbed the little things underneath with Brillo pads. I wiped down all of the counters with a bleach solution. I ran the dishwasher, even though it was full of dishes that were already clean. I swept the floor, vaccuumed the floor, and mopped the floor. I put all of the dog food in a ziplock bag (Going to get a plastic bin for it today). And then I vaccuumed the rest of the first floor.
I got to work around 9:30, but I felt much better.
I was going to call the landlord, but I didn't want him laughing at me. I'm on my way to Lowe's to find something to get rid of this thing myself. But I will be calling a man to come and throw it away once it's dead.
Note: The above is not a picture of the actual mouse. I was too crazed to even think about getting a picture of the thing.
1 comment:
They have traps that allow you to catch them, without seeing how they are killed. I get chills just typing that.
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