A murder took place at my house last night…
I have insomnia. It’s a real thing. I stay up crazy late!
It all started a couple weeks ago when I heard a strange noise coming from our kitchen. I denied it. I tried to come up with some logical explanation, none of which
really made any sense, so I just decided to ignore it. I went to sleep.
The next morning rolled around and we went through our usual mad, crazy routine. I got the kids off to school and the husband left for work. Do you know how quiet my house is without those four people in it? (You can hear a pin drop) So, It was just my dog and I left (we have a designated cuddle time. It’s one of my favorite parts of the day). Anyways, we were sitting on the couch (don’t tell my husband)-I was working on my next blog post and all of a sudden I heard it. The noise in the kitchen was back!! I can’t really explain the noise but it freaked me out (putting it mildly). I slowly crept from the living room to the kitchen. I took a look around and saw nothing. There was no denying it. There was no ignoring it. I text my husband to tell him about it. I’m pretty sure he thought I was crazy! (Thanks for the support, man). So, I did what any rational person would do and grabbed the broom (yep, my weapon of choice). I walked around checking out every nook and cranny of the house (I came up with nothing). I continued on with my day (just completely on edge is all). I mean, what was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to feel? There was a critter taking up vacancy in my home, I was sure!
Day turned to night (if I could add scary music here I would). It was about 11:40PM…and you guessed it, folks, that dreaded (and now familiar) sound in the kitchen. I’m thinking, ‘WHAT THE HECK?!’ at this point. It’s MY time to wind down & my critter friend wants to party. I yell (scream on the top of my lungs is a better way to describe it) for my husband (not before grabbing the broom & jumping on the couch, of course). He comes stomping down the hallway, switching on all the lights. (Really? Could he be any more obvious? Ugh! The damn thing isn’t going to show himself with the spotlight on him. Duh!) That is when my husband said the dreaded word. . .M.O.U.S.E. !!!
“Andrea, it has to be a mouse”, he says.
I do not exaggerate when I tell you I have a serious phobia of mice. It’s a real thing-suriphobia (google it if you don’t believe me). The thought of a mouse in my home sends me into a full blown panic attack!
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking the same thing my brother said,
“Andrea, it’s a tiny mouse! It’s more afraid of you than you are of it” (I beg to differ).
I’m fully aware that my fear is completely irrational but it doesn’t matter. I am frightened. I mean, scared to death, people! I’m ready to start packing our things to move! This went on for another few days. I’m not sure my husband was convinced, because the damn thing was fully aware of his schedule, I swear! He only came out when the hubby (I hate using that word but I seem to be over-using husband) was at work, running errands, or in the bathroom. (They’re smart little suckers.)
“Oh, you live next to a farming field?”, asks the exterminator company lady I called.
“It’s probably just a little field mouse. You need to figure out how it’s getting in”, she says.
I’m positive that my frantic phone call to her is one she will NEVER forget! (I was the topic of conversation at her dinner table that night, I’m sure!)
It was 9:40AM (it’s just me & the dog) and I heard it again! I grabbed my broom and an array of other items (to throw at the thing) and went and sat on my kitchen counter (I cannot make this up). I was armed & ready for this thing! I even had my video camera ready to record the whole incident (for my non-believers). I was as still and quiet as a church mouse (yes, pun intended). I text my Uncle to tell him I was on a mission, which made him call me (I can’t talk at a time like this! DUH!) Would you believe I sat on my kitchen counter for one full hour and ten minutes, waiting…Nothing happened! I couldn’t believe it. I felt defeated. I jumped off the counter (not to leave my broom behind though). I’m not exactly sure why the broom gave me some comfort, but hey, to each their own…
The husband returned home from work that evening with mouse traps (four to be exact, which honestly didn’t seem like enough, but what can ya do?) I’m pretty certain he was worried that I was beginning to lose my mind a bit. So, he set out the traps once the kids were asleep.
Here’s how it went:
* Traps went down at 9PM.
* Husband & I were watching Big Bang Theory (um. LOVE that show!)
* 9:25 we hear, ‘SNAP!!’ The murder of unknown (now confirmed) critter had taken place.
* 9:30PM-The mouse was pronounced dead.
* 9:32-I take some meds to help me sleep (I am traumatized!)
Though I felt a huge sense of relief I couldn’t help but feel guilty! He just wasn’t welcome here. I am hoping it was a fair warning to all his little friends!
Everyone says, “Where there is one, there is more.”
I was expecting to hear traps snapping left and right, but no…just the one. (Phew!)
Morning has come and I’m still feeling insanely uneasy. I will be walking around with my broom in the days ahead, creeping around MY house, like I’m the uninvited guest.