Sure, they can look all cute and innocent…
But, really I think mice are just waiting for an opportunity to take over the world.
I’ll admit it — I have an abnormal fear of mice. They have fur and little rodent faces. And they fit into little spaces…and they poop.
I do not wish the mice of this world any harm. I just don’t want them in my house. Or my garage.
I’d be willing to construct a little mouse house for them, and I’d be willing to feed them little scraps of food during the cold winter months. In return, the mice cannot not enter my house or garage. Somehow, I can’t seem to clearly communicate the terms of this agreement to the mice.
Last week, I was backing my car out of my garage,when I spotted the enemy. The first sighting was innocent enough — a little mouse ran across the back wall of the garage. It’s a detached garage. Perhaps the mouse was just passing through on his/her way to visit another mouse.
Ok. I didn’t even handle that mouse sighting very well. I called my mom from my car and said I wasn’t getting out of car. Like, ever. I assured her she didn’t need to be overly concerned — I wasn’t in any danger of harming myself or others. I just planned to live in my car. Forever.
She used her stern “I’m a mom and a teacher” voice and told me to stop being a weenie. (I paraphrased that.) I followed her orders and walked through the mouse-infested garage and into my house.
The next day, I cautiously opened my garage and backed my car out. I don’t have an electric garage door, so I got out of my car to shut the garage door. As I walked around the front of my car, a mouse sprinted from the underbelly of my car into the garage.
I screamed. And swore at the mouse. Any neighbors watching me obviously wouldn’t have seen the mouse and likely would have assumed I like to scream and swear before I get in my car to go to work.
The next morning, I was prepared to see my little mouse enemy run from my car to the garage. But…I didn’t see a mouse. I walked back toward my car — and SAW A LITTLE MOUSE HEAD POKE OUT FROM THE UNDERBELLY OF MY CAR! The enemy was living under my car! And was apparently trying to hitch a ride to work!
More screaming and swearing ensued.
I drove to work. I have no idea if the mouse survived. I’m sure he/she did. The little mouse probably roamed around downtown Des Moines for 8-9 hours and then hopped back under my car for a trip home. Probably.
I think this hypothesis was correct, because I saw the little furry rodent yesterday — running from my car to the garage.
BUT — yesterday, I fought back. Ok, I didn’t fight back. I called the best mouser I know (with two legs) — DAD.
He arrived with two bottles of yellow spray stuff to seal up the cracks in my garage. He also gave me several little pouches of anti-rodent potpourri. Apparently, mice don’t like the smell of this stuff. (I think it smells quite nice.)
The vulgarity of my language seems to increase with every mouse spotting. So, for the sake of any small children in the neighborhood, I hope this does the trick.
If it doesn’t, I may start buying the mice plane tickets to Florida.