Monday, August 2, 2010

Time to Move

Ever since we moved into this house last year, it's been nothing but trouble.

#1: Bugs.
I don't know where they come from, although the holes in the floor and the ceiling and the cracks in the windows that have been cleverly hidden by the landlord with duct tape might give me some clues. Just a few highlights: waking up in the morning and having to turn the shower on early to get all the little bugs down the drain that have taken over the tub; sitting in bed reading a book when I turn the page and find an earwig crawling up the page; going in the bathroom and finding a box elder bug in my hair, then a few minutes later finding it on the front of my button-up pajama shirt--I was trying to scream and communicate to Ben that "It's ON my shirt" but he translated it as "It's IN my shirt" and proceeded to tear off my clothes to save the day.

#2: Birds.
There's a dumb looking breezeway built in front of the house. And last fall we knew that a bird was living up in the entryway. It's scary enough to walk outside and have a startled bird fly out just above your head. But add a NEST and babies this spring and it gets worse. Highlights: admiring the never-ending poop running down the front of the house every day; coming home and almost stepping on the dead baby bird(s) who didn't seem to pass the natural selection test and was now resting in a very shallow grave on my front porch.

#3: Mice.
When it started getting cold in the fall, we started to find poop in places it shouldn't be. It got to the point where we had about 5 mousetraps set up around the house at one time. And not just any mousetrap--I'm more partial to the kind where the mouse goes in, doesn't come out and the indicator light let's you know it's done it's job. No unsightly mess. But I'm a girl and didn't grow up on a farm. Ben is a fan of the old-fashioned "snap-you-in-half-let-your-eyeballs-bug-out-and-your-blood-splatter-everywhere" kind. He also assures me that peanut butter is the best bait--not cheese. So which kind do you think we got? Here's the highlights: getting to the point where I didn't even freak out anymore when I saw a mouse running across my counter and onto the floor (that's right--one counter. About 12 inches across. ONE counter.); lifting up the stovetop to find a colony-sized amount of caked-on poop sludge underneath; having to take care of 2 dead mice myself with Ben on the phone cheering me on--and yes, they were buggy-eyed, had splattered blood on my floor, and rigor mortis had set in (I'm serious. Imagine that stiff body all the way to the end of the tail)...

Which brings me to today. Since I've been feeling so sick for the past 4 months, Ben has been the man in charge of food and the kitchen. And the other day, after cleaning the kitchen, he informed me that he found mouse poop on the stove and backside of THE counter. *Ugh* I thought we'd solved this. So he smeared on the peanut butter and set up the last mousetrap right next to the fridge. This morning, I finally got out of bed around 10am (don't judge me-I'm pregnant) and walked into the kitchen to get some breakfast. What do I find? A mousetrap turned upside down, with a sprawling dead mouse laying underneath it. I called Ben at work and he came home right away to dispose of the corpse (I am no longer brave). After throwing it away, he comes back inside and says, "At least he had a good last meal."

It's time to move.

1 comment:

  1. Oh Wow....GROSS!!! I agree--it's time to move:) I hate mice! HATE!!! I don't even care as much about bugs as I do about mice. Thanks to your graphic description of the dead mice, I realized once again why I am so disgusted with them. A mouse on the counter?? Crazy!

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