It was about 4:00 in the morning. I woke up because the person in bed next to me was rummaging around in the covers and lifting up all the blankets. I said, "What are you doing, what's wrong?" Brett said, I felt something run down my face, but I was dreaming, so I'm not sure if it was just part of my dream or what."
Well, you just have to know Brett. He is a vivid dreamer. He jumps in his sleep. He talks in his sleep. He thinks he sees things. So I just said, "I'm sure it was part of your dream. Just go back to bed." So, we did.
About 15 minutes later, he sits up in bed and says, "I felt it again! And I heard it go behind our bed!!!" I was thinking, "What in the world kind of dream was this?" I got up and turned the light on and said, "Ok. Let's look behind the bed and then we'll be able to go back to sleep." All along thinking in my mind, that it was nothing.
So Brett looks behind the bed. Nothing. I move my night-stand and what do you know, out runs a mouse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes, a mouse.
I freaked out.
He ran into our closet. Brett slammed the door shut and we stuffed the crack under the door with an old towel so he couldn't get out.
Brett looks at me and says with fire in his eyes, "Babe, you have two choices: Either you can go in the closet with the mouse with the door closed. After you're in, I'll take the towel away and you can scare him out and he'll be forced to run out under the door. Then, I'll smash him with my tennis racket."
Uh......silence.......crickets chirping...........
"Or, you can be the one on the other side of the door, waiting to smash him with this tennis racket. But, you can't afford to be soft."
Uh.......silence.........crickets chirping..........
I say, "Uhhhhhhhh........Neither?????? I can't do either of those things. Be shut in a 2x3 space- knowing there is a mouse in that same 2x3 space? NO WAY!!!! There has to be more choices than that.
There were no other choices.
So, Brett, being the kind, sweet husband he is didn't make me choose. He went into the closet with his tennis racket, with the mouse. I stuffed the towel under the door so the mouse couldn't get out. Brett starts fishing around in there and soon I hear the racket banging against the walls and shoes flying all over the place. Keep in mind our closet is very small. It's a "walk-in", probably 2 x 3. Anyway, he yells out, "I can't get a full swing and he isn't afraid of me! He just ran across my foot!!!"
Clearly, this plan wasn't going to work. So, while the mouse was hiding in there somewhere, Brett ran out, slammed the door, and I offered my little offering of stuffing the towel under the door. We sat there for a minute and then I said. "I can go in the closet with the mouse. I can rummage around for him. Then when he comes out, you can whack him. But I don't want the door closed." Ladies, can I just tell you......at this moment I was more scared than I have been in a long time. Brett says to me, "Ok, if you're going to do this, you have to stay in there. If you see the mouse, you can't come running out because you'll either plow me over or get in my way when it's time to whack him." Before I went in, I put on shoes and socks. I tucked my jammie pants into my socks so the mouse couldn't run up my pant leg. Then, I went in, broom in hand. I rummaged around for a few minutes. Nothing. I start taking clothes off the bottom rack. The blasted mouse is no where to be seen. I start throwing shoes out. Still no sign of him. At this point the floor of our closet is completely empty with the exception of my handy shoe rack (which I think my dad ordered off an infomercial back in the 90's. I inherited it from him when I went to college. I just can't get rid of it. It really does a good job) and a few flip-flops.
Well, you just have to know Brett. He is a vivid dreamer. He jumps in his sleep. He talks in his sleep. He thinks he sees things. So I just said, "I'm sure it was part of your dream. Just go back to bed." So, we did.
About 15 minutes later, he sits up in bed and says, "I felt it again! And I heard it go behind our bed!!!" I was thinking, "What in the world kind of dream was this?" I got up and turned the light on and said, "Ok. Let's look behind the bed and then we'll be able to go back to sleep." All along thinking in my mind, that it was nothing.
So Brett looks behind the bed. Nothing. I move my night-stand and what do you know, out runs a mouse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Yes, a mouse.
I freaked out.
He ran into our closet. Brett slammed the door shut and we stuffed the crack under the door with an old towel so he couldn't get out.
Brett looks at me and says with fire in his eyes, "Babe, you have two choices: Either you can go in the closet with the mouse with the door closed. After you're in, I'll take the towel away and you can scare him out and he'll be forced to run out under the door. Then, I'll smash him with my tennis racket."
Uh......silence.......crickets chirping...........
"Or, you can be the one on the other side of the door, waiting to smash him with this tennis racket. But, you can't afford to be soft."
Uh.......silence.........crickets chirping..........
I say, "Uhhhhhhhh........Neither?????? I can't do either of those things. Be shut in a 2x3 space- knowing there is a mouse in that same 2x3 space? NO WAY!!!! There has to be more choices than that.
There were no other choices.
So, Brett, being the kind, sweet husband he is didn't make me choose. He went into the closet with his tennis racket, with the mouse. I stuffed the towel under the door so the mouse couldn't get out. Brett starts fishing around in there and soon I hear the racket banging against the walls and shoes flying all over the place. Keep in mind our closet is very small. It's a "walk-in", probably 2 x 3. Anyway, he yells out, "I can't get a full swing and he isn't afraid of me! He just ran across my foot!!!"
Clearly, this plan wasn't going to work. So, while the mouse was hiding in there somewhere, Brett ran out, slammed the door, and I offered my little offering of stuffing the towel under the door. We sat there for a minute and then I said. "I can go in the closet with the mouse. I can rummage around for him. Then when he comes out, you can whack him. But I don't want the door closed." Ladies, can I just tell you......at this moment I was more scared than I have been in a long time. Brett says to me, "Ok, if you're going to do this, you have to stay in there. If you see the mouse, you can't come running out because you'll either plow me over or get in my way when it's time to whack him." Before I went in, I put on shoes and socks. I tucked my jammie pants into my socks so the mouse couldn't run up my pant leg. Then, I went in, broom in hand. I rummaged around for a few minutes. Nothing. I start taking clothes off the bottom rack. The blasted mouse is no where to be seen. I start throwing shoes out. Still no sign of him. At this point the floor of our closet is completely empty with the exception of my handy shoe rack (which I think my dad ordered off an infomercial back in the 90's. I inherited it from him when I went to college. I just can't get rid of it. It really does a good job) and a few flip-flops.
Then I see a small dowel that we have stored in our closet that leans diagonal from the corner up to a shelf in the middle of the closet. Who knows why that was in our closet. Anyway, it's like a light-bulb went off in my head and it hits me. I say with conviction in my voice, "Babe. He's climbed up the dowel and he's on the shelf." I start poking around with the broom and 2 seconds later a gray ball of fluff jumps off the shelf and onto the ground. Brett takes a swing and drops the full load of the racket at him and barely misses. He hits the ground so hard with the racket that the little rodent bounces off the ground, but does not take a hit. BLAST!
So now, he's under our bed. I got down on all fours to look and poke. Immediately, I notice that underneath our bed looks like a DI garage sale. Seriously, who is my mother? (Sorry mom, I still stuff and cram under my bed.) Why did we have so many stinkin' things under there? Just more places for the filthy rodent to hide. I start pulling out shoes, bags, presents (Brett saw one of his presents I got him for Christmas), and just junk! I poked around with the broom and sure enough, out he darts towards Brett. Brett takes another hard whack at him and barely misses again.
Now, the carrier-of-deadly-diseases is behind our L shaped desk. I stuck the broom in the opposite end of the desk and he shoots out towards Brett! Brett takes another swing and him and he gets a piece of him! We hear this tiny little squeal that is just heart-breaking, but at that point neither of us cared because we wanted him dead and out of our house! But, no carcass yet. He darts under our dresser this time. So, we got out our flashlights and looked under there for an injured mouse....we don't see him. So we start taking all the drawers out of our dresser thinking that maybe he's crawled up into one of the drawers to die. No mouse in the drawers. Where could he be?
We started thinking that maybe he had gone under the bed to take his last breath. We KNEW Brett had got him. So we looked under the bed, no sign of him. Brett said, "Poke that bag with your broom." So I did and I see him move. He scampers out to the other side, stops, and looks Brett in the face. Brett says, "Honey, hold still and say a prayer."
SLAM!
He was a goner.
An hour and 1/2 later. We were done. This is what our room looked like.
The clock says 5:15 am.
This is my mouse-catcher gear. Brett made me post this picture. Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.
So the next day we made a decision. After a few months of finding mouse droppings in our pantry and utensil drawers and having to sanitize our whole kitchen twice, we now are the proud owner of:
A Cat!!! Can you believe it? I have never really been a cat person, but we fell in love with ours the moment we saw her. Her name is Tiggs. We got her from the Humane Society for $10. She's already spayed and has her shots. She is the sweetest, most cuddly cat. More so than any cat I've known. When I come home she wants me to pet her and jumps into my lap for a scratch. If I stop scratching her, she nuzzles my hand until I pet her. She is seriously so sweet! If I would have known that we would love her this much and that she would be this much fun, I would have got her a long time ago!
Now lets hope the mice STAY AWAY!!!!!
