Monday was not a good day. I mean I think I was quite brave about the whole ordeal... though Chad would probably tell you otherwise. I just hate animals that travel erratically- like birds, bats, mice...
So, I am sitting at the kitchen table (which doubles as my desk seeing as space is at a premium in our apartment) when I hear a SOUND in the corner behind the laundry hamper which we use as a garbage can. There are bags of cans waiting to go to recycling behind the trash. Chad gets up from his studies to come and check it out. He assures me it is just the bags of cans shifting. Fair enough.
15 minutes later it happens again. This time I draw my feet up onto my chair as my imagination starts to get the best of me. Nothing, 'just the bags again'. Ok. But maybe we should move the bags and see if it happens again. Chad humors me.
Like clockwork, 15 minutes later I hear the same small noise. "IT IS BACK!" I announced. At this point I am actually standing up on my chair! Chad sneaks over and tips the trash only to actually lay eyes on our new furry little friend, and quietly and calmly announces "there is your mouse". At which point I did what any rational person who has not even seen the critter would do... I scream! Chad just looks at me like, you didn't even see it. I assure him it matters not.
Out comes the traps (supplied by our landlords... apparently a 1905 house isn't exactly mouse proof!) and the peanut butter and we wait, and wait, and wait. What? Where is the little guy? Nothing. 3 times in a row and now nothing?!?!
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Until 6:30 am the following morning (and yes we slept in our apartment- see I told you I was brave!) We both wake up, look at each other, look towards the kitchen and Chad says, "I think we got him."
Sure enough. As I head to the bathroom and resisted the urge to lock the door (took some convincing that that actually would not help). Chad got his hockey sticks and did what any good hubby would do... apparently only one back leg had been caught and the mouse had hauled the trap around for a while. At least we were able to supply one of the anonymous neighborhood cats with an easy breakfast!
To make matters worse, I head off to school and regale my classmates with my horrifying story and they all start laughing at my funny accent...."there was a mooose in your hooose?"
So, I am sitting at the kitchen table (which doubles as my desk seeing as space is at a premium in our apartment) when I hear a SOUND in the corner behind the laundry hamper which we use as a garbage can. There are bags of cans waiting to go to recycling behind the trash. Chad gets up from his studies to come and check it out. He assures me it is just the bags of cans shifting. Fair enough.
15 minutes later it happens again. This time I draw my feet up onto my chair as my imagination starts to get the best of me. Nothing, 'just the bags again'. Ok. But maybe we should move the bags and see if it happens again. Chad humors me.
Like clockwork, 15 minutes later I hear the same small noise. "IT IS BACK!" I announced. At this point I am actually standing up on my chair! Chad sneaks over and tips the trash only to actually lay eyes on our new furry little friend, and quietly and calmly announces "there is your mouse". At which point I did what any rational person who has not even seen the critter would do... I scream! Chad just looks at me like, you didn't even see it. I assure him it matters not.
Out comes the traps (supplied by our landlords... apparently a 1905 house isn't exactly mouse proof!) and the peanut butter and we wait, and wait, and wait. What? Where is the little guy? Nothing. 3 times in a row and now nothing?!?!
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Until 6:30 am the following morning (and yes we slept in our apartment- see I told you I was brave!) We both wake up, look at each other, look towards the kitchen and Chad says, "I think we got him."
Sure enough. As I head to the bathroom and resisted the urge to lock the door (took some convincing that that actually would not help). Chad got his hockey sticks and did what any good hubby would do... apparently only one back leg had been caught and the mouse had hauled the trap around for a while. At least we were able to supply one of the anonymous neighborhood cats with an easy breakfast!
To make matters worse, I head off to school and regale my classmates with my horrifying story and they all start laughing at my funny accent...."there was a mooose in your hooose?"
2 comments:
Way to be brave, Karmyn! :) I don't consider myself to be afraid of mice, but I did have one experience that left me feeling a little creepy... let's just say sitting in the passenger seat while your husband drives down a busy street in Calgary is not a good time to "squeal" about the little critter running around at your feet!
Hopefully your apartment will stay critter-free now!!
Nice blog! (Didn't remember you were teaching!! Southern meets Canadian!)
We had a bat in our house. I too left the critter for hubby to deal with.
And then, this summer, we also had a bat in our car. Abby and I flew out of the car at a gas station while Larry's pumping gas and left that one for him to deal with also.
Hope you have no more critters!
Elizabeth Fitch
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