Living with Jerry

We had an unwelcomed visitor Monday night. Kevin and I were talking at our kitchen table after the kids went to bed, and while deep in conversation I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I put it off as being nothing, just sleepiness, and went back to the conversation. But the memory of a hole in our bread loaf bag suddenly found it's way into my thoughts. The day before we got out the bread for sandwiches and found a hole in it about the size of a finger, and some of the bread was shredded. We both thought Aaron was the culprit because he loves eating plain bread and, well, poking his finger in a bag would be something he would do for curiousity's sake. Anyway, back to the table. A few minutes had passed and once again something moved out of the corner of my eye. Sure enough, yes, it was a tiny grey mouse! AHHH! After my reaction, Kevin thought someone was behind him with a machetti (sp?). Nope, just a tiny mouse with a disgusting long grey tail. He scurried into a hole under the cabinet by the oven. I ran quickly to put shoes on. We waited for it to come back out, but didn't happen. The next morning I put my shoes on to make breakfast and Lexi's lunch. Opening anything was very difficult for me! I went to go get something out of the pantry and sure enough that little buggar jumped right out of a granola bar box and over my arm! YES, it touched me! I screamed and ran, leaving my poor 2 children (LExi and Eli) to tears at the table! Oh, I am such a pansy! I can handle just about anything--bugs, bees, spiders, etc--but not rodents!! Not even the cute rodents--no such thing, actually. I got Kevin out of the shower to come to my rescue. He stood at the pantry, tapped on things and waited for the little varmit to show himself, but to no avail. He was hiding. GREAT!!!! Kevin was headed out of town for the night. I would have to face him alone. All day long I stayed out of the kitchen until I went to feed Eli. After a couple of bites, the mouse finally comes out of the pantry to his little hole. That night Papa Bill (Kevin's dad) who has experience in mouse catching, came by with traps. First he tried to draw him out so he could catch him and take him outside, the animal friendly thing to do. But, at this point I was ready for the traps. I am sorry, but being alone in a house with 3 kids and a mouse is just too much for this mama to handle. Bill and Fran stayed around after he set up the traps. I had him put them in a box so I didn't have to pick the thing up or look at it. They waited around for it to go off, and while we were chatting in the Living room, that little (explicit) ran into the room, right passed the traps! Before I knew it, Bill had a broom and Fran and I were practically standing on the chairs we were sitting in. He ran under the piano, and Bill shewed him out with the broom, but he ran so fast back to his hideout, we (I mean Bill) couldn't get him. So, they had to go home and I was left alone, once again, with the mouse and the traps. I woke up a dozen times hoping to hear that trap go off. The next morning there was no sign of a dead mouse. Everything that moved wrong or touched me sent me through the roof. I couldn't wait to take Lexi to school. When we got home I went straight in to my room to change Eli's diaper, and my brave son, Aaron, came bursting in the room saying "the mouse is in the trap!" Sure enough I peeked in the box and he was caught. I think that was just as traumatic. A dead mouse in my kitchen. But he is gone now, we found the hole outside where he got in, and though I am still skiddish and ready to throw everthing in my pantry out, I am relieved. And that was my first rodent experience (prayerfully the last). I will spare you and not take pictures!

P.S. We did not eat that bread that day, just in case you were wondering, or just horrified at the thought!