An Uninvited Guest
“Yikes! There’s a mouse!” I screeched as it skittered across the carpet. I’d been going upstairs when the gray blur startled me. Now, the tiny gray critter was frozen in fear, wedged in the corner of a step in our home.
“Grab a cup!” I shouted to Larry, my husband, who was hovering at the top of the stairs, peering down, but not coming an inch closer.
He turned on his heel and snatched a cup from the cupboard, quickly extending it to me!
“Don’t you want to catch it?” I squeaked.
He gave me an are-you-crazy look.
I sighed. He stood 6’3” and built like a block of cement. The mouse was smaller than a baby’s fist, yet I knew he wouldn’t trade me places.
“Grab a lid so I can contain the mouse in the cup,” I said, knowing I was out of options.
He gladly retreated to find a lid.
With cup and saucer in hand, I scooped up the spooked mouse and released it outside.
“Well,” Larry said. “When there’s one mouse, there’s always another.” He was right. It was October and the nights were getting colder. The warmth of our home seemed to attract the field mice from the grassy area around the nearby dog park. Larry shuffled to the garage and fetched the mouse traps.
On my way to bed, I saw Larry had taken mouse precautions.
Not only had he baited traps, his shoes were hanging from the coat rack.
“What?” he said, unease creeping into his voice. “You never know where one of those critters will hide,” he explained. Does this happen at your house?