Story #1, Day #3.
I never thought that a measly mouse would make me squeal... But yep! I'm squealing.
The Backstory:
Literally 2 days before my hubby deployed, we learned that we had a housemate. One that is very unwanted. One that is little and brown. A very little mouse that decided that it wanted to make our garage it's home. It made a comfy nest in a box of Army clothes, decided that the paving sand felt good between it's toes, and that grass seed up on the shelf was quite a fun place to play.
When we learned of this, well obviously, this was a NO GO. My husband decides "I'm going to find this mouse!!" And within 2 hours, the once tidy and clean garage (that I waited 6 looong months to finally get straightened up after a long TDY and lack of time between then and a week before deployment) was pulled apart inch by inch by a crazy man thinking he was a villian on a Disney cartoon with his sidekick dog (Renegade) trying to catch Mickey Mouse. I don't know if maybe he was just trying to catch a glimpse, or trying to prove to himself that it existed. What was he going to do once he saw this mouse? Catch the little thing that can move behind a 1/2 inch crack? I don't know. I don't know if he had a plan. But he did a good job making a mess while trying to prove that it existed.
So, Yes. He saw it. He chased it. He tried to sic the dog onto it and he could literally hear the soundless puffs of air going through Renegade's head as he was staring into the wrong corner. The mouse got away- running through the little tiniest crack in the corner of the garage door. And all I got was, "BABE! I saw the mouse! It's really little. Oh... Sorry... the garage is a mess. You're going to have to clean that up when I leave." Yaye. Go me. Super Wife.
So, after being out an about the next day, we bought a couple of classic mouse traps. Loaded them. And on deployment morning. Natta. No more peanut butter and no Mouse. So before we left the house on deployment day, he baited them again. Over the next 2 days. Natta. No more honey and still no Mouse.
The garage is a crazy, mad man, mess.
Sucking up my emotions and trying to keep busy 2 days later, I completely swept, organized, and cleaned the garage. Cleaning up the madman mess, some mouse poop, mouse playland, and mouse fun. But no mouse.
Now Up to Today. This morning. I was running some errands, And I realized that I didn't want my work from yesterday to go to waste if the mouse was still around wanting to make a mess. So stopped by Lowe's to grab some sticky mouse traps since the classic ones didn't work too well.
BTW, Uggggh. I was against the sticky traps in the first place. I wanted it to die instantly. I didn't want to have to deal with an alive, moving, squealing, stuck, little mouse.
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh!!!
So, before I'm even in the house, I take out the sticky traps. I load them with some honey and leave the house for an hour... not expecting them to do their magic until tonight.
I come home, open up the garage and BAM! There it is. EEEEeeeek!!! (I actually did have a little whimper when I saw it).
In the trap. The little brown thing. Squeaking. Scared. Trying to get out the sticky trap, but digging itself into it in even more. I quickly called my neighbor. "Iiiiii'm gonna need the services of your husband when he gets home... Weelll... I caught the mouse.... And my heart broke a little."
Stupid mouse. Getting me all emotional.
So now, it's there. Trying to wiggle free. Waiting for... the man. To do whatever it is you do with a trapped live mouse. I honestly don't know what to do. Nor do I want to know what to do. Because I'm a female, and I'm playing the "girl-card." And dealing with that... well, that's a man job.
Am I a Super Wife? I think so. But a super wife still needs a man to do the Man Jobs. And luckily, I live in a neighborhood where EVERYONE can empathize with that situation.
So, thank you to the men in my neighborhood, the one's who step up for the military wives in the neighborhood.
RIP Mousey.
