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The mice HAD to go. I could not have home invaders! Being a former gerbil owner though, I couldn't bear to kill one so we got the humane 'catch and release' traps. Every day brought a new capture and since G was out of town I would bravely put on 2 pairs of gardening gloves (you never know), cover my gloves in grocery bags, and pick the trap up. I would walk the trap across the street to an empty lot, so I couldn't be accused of dumping our mice on our neighbors, open the door and inevitably let out a scream as the rodent scurried away. Eventually I decided that one mouse a day was not very threatening and in fact I might even be inviting them in with the delicious peanut butter I used as bait. I abandoned the traps.
A short two nights later I awoke to a rustling. Being home alone I was already terrified but I have already rehearsed many times in my head how I would take down an intruder and run to my makeshift panic room. I had no plan for a furry intruder other than to freak out. The only weapon I had at my disposal was a hairdryer (conveniently kept by the bed so that I can heat my sheets at night before crawling in). I turned it on high, stood up on the bed, and aimed that thing every which way. I obviously had no idea where the mouse was. Never having actually seen a mouse I convinced myself I made it up and eventually went back to sleep. The very next night though, ... visual confirmation! The battle was on.
That night I took refuge in the future baby's room figuring that there was even less in there that a mouse would be interested in. As I lay awake, I planned my attack. I read every possible article available on the internet about mouse psychology and extermination tactics. I also read about all the horrible diseases they carry, ew! I couldn't get one of those horrible diseases and hurt my baby!!! I started crying over the fact that I was left alone to deal with this horrible plight. (It was 3 am, I was tired, and just this time I am going to blame the hormones.)
The next morning I awoke a bit stronger and attempted to channel my inner Sarah Palin. Thank god I found out I don't have one. With my own ferocity I went to the hardware store and picked up a plethora of anti-mouse products. I was done with the humane traps and purchased 8 not nice traps. Being that in my fragile condition I couldn't risk touching a wretched diseased mouse carcass I sprung for the completely enclosed traps. When a mouse is caught it just raises this little flag. My sis-in-law described it as a mouse mailbox which I thought made it sound much cheerier than it was. I also purchased ultrasonic mouse repellent devices so that I could build a fortress of mouse auditory hell around my bed. That night, with my traps set and repellents activated, I prepared for battle.
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Thankfully I heard no mouse noises that night and upon waking the next morning surveyed the battlefield. I was somewhat surprised to find no casualties upstairs and none in the basement until, aha! There was one kill in the utility room! You've got mouse mail! Taking my standard precautions, I disposed of the body and rested easily until the next night. Again the same preparations were taken and again I slept soundly. That morning's battlefield survey turned up nothing! Nothing!! Three days later, still nothing!!
All I can figure is that there really was only ever one mouse. Every day I caught him and released him and every night he came back. The lesson here, as pointed out by my dad is that "The 'catch and release' program does not work for mice... one needs to kill them. The same rule no doubt applies to terrorists."
G returned home right after all the drama and lucky for him our mouse terror alert has returned to yellow.
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