Death to Stuart Little!!

We have a mouse. A mouse in our house. In our house we have a mouse.
Apparently I've been reading too much of Mother Goose Rhymes. The rhyming is rubbing off. ;-)

Actually we have had a mouse for a while, it lived IN the walls up in the corner of the living room. It's little scrapings sounded like a bird in the gutter. So, for a long time I thought it was a bird in the gutter. One night I said to Jake "listen, there's a bird in the gutter!" and Jake said "NO, that's a mouse in the walls." How nice that he has known this for some time and didn't see the need to mention it. The next night, I noticed some blue plastic pieces coming out of a cabinet onto the stove. We open the cabinet door. There sits my BLUE bag of coconut shavings from the truffles I made at Christmas. Jake takes it out of the cabinet. HUGE hole in the bottom!!!! He takes out my bag of brown sugar.....Hole in the bottom. My bag of powdered sugar..... Hole in the bottom. My bag of granulated sugar...... You guessed it.....hole in the bottom! However, my huge bag of flour sat untouched by the sugar high mouse.

Can you just imagine this mouse?! After all that sugar can you imagine what he must look like? Like a mouse on crack I am sure. I would love to see the damage he has done to the insides of my walls on that sugar high!

So, Jake sets a trap that night. He is so excited about catching this mouse. He is talking the "The Godfather" while he is setting up this trap. He is entirely too amused by this, and entirely too excited to trap a mouse. A day goes by, the mouse outsmarted Jake twice and nibbled the PB just around the edges of the trap. Another day goes by, Jake was outsmarted by Stuart Little again. Yes, I call him Stuart Little. Finally, in the wee morning hours of the next day, 2:30 am to be exact, I am up nursing Owen and I fall asleep. I wake up to this LOUD WHACK and I jump. It's him. It's the mouse. It's Stuart Little. I jump up, Owen still attached (literally) to me and I walk as fast as I can down the hall. When I walk past the kitchen I can HEAR him in there flopping around in the cabinet. He isn't dead. HE ISN'T DEAD. GROSS. The trap keeps hitting the cabinet doors and I am afraid he will fall out.....not afraid for him, afraid for ME who would have to SEE him. EW. So, I wake up Jake. Jake is NOT happy. "It's 2:30 in the freaking morning! Are you kidding me? I don't want to deal with this now!" He is not mad at me. He is mad at the mouse for deciding to get caught at such an ungodly hour. He checks on the mouse. He comes back to bed. He says "The mouse is not dead, it just caught him by his leg, he's just laying there." EW EW EW EW. I lay awake for a long time after that thinking of the mouse, afraid he will get lose and then die in the walls somewhere and stink up my house.

The next morning at breakfast the boys and I are at the table eating our yummy whole wheat pancakes and Jake decides to check on the mouse. He is now dead. I say he had a heart attack. Dylan of course wants to see the mouse. At first I thought "why not?" and then at second thought decided it would probably NOT be a good idea. He still wants to see it. Jake thinks it will be okay. So, I give in. I don't DARE look. I will pass out, I know it. Just the knowledge that there is a mouse behind me is almost too much to deal with. I watch Dylan instead. His eyes get H.U.G.E. HUGE! All he says is "ooooooooooh." It was hilarious! I laugh to do the impression b/c it is so funny. The look on his face was priceless. I think he regretted looking.

YEAH! We got our culprit. End of story. Right?

WRONG.

Last night I was laying in bed w/Dylan b/c when I was checking on them he said "mommy will you lay down with me for a few minutes?" How do you say no to that? While I was laying there, I heard......scratching. And there are no gutters on the outside of Dylans wall halfway down. ANOTHER MOUSE. Good grief.

Here we go again.........