You may recall that just a few weeks ago we had a teensy tiny issue with a stinky dead rodent in our attic. It was pretty disgusting and not something I hope to experience ever again.
I thought we might be in the clear, but yesterday we learned that we are apparently rodent magnets.
Let me set the scene:
I got home from work amid a huge downpour. It had rained all day – a rarity in the desert – and it was all I could do to get home, in heels, without landing on my face.
I hopped on the elliptical and got a workout in before I had to head to my neighborhood book club. As I got off the machine I saw something small and dark scurry down the hallway. Within ten seconds of witnessing this I had four simultaneous thoughts:
1. As much as I hate cockroaches I really hope that was a roach and not a mouse.
2. Did I completely imagine that?
3. If I ignore it, does it make it go away?
4. Can the dogs fix this?
At any rate, I made a swift leap onto the safety of my bed (reminiscent of the hot lava monster game of childhood when you couldn’t touch the floor) and called Jim in a panic.
In hindsight, I can’t blame him for laughing at me, but in that moment I needed someone to be as hysterical as I was. A MOUSE. In our house. A MOUSE! Fievel, Mickey, Mighty MOUSE.
As luck would have it Jim couldn’t leave work to save me, so I called my next lifeline, Zoee. I immediately announced to my favorite realtor that it was time for me to move. I could not possibly live in a house with mice. Zoee also found my situation purely hysterical, but agreed to come to my aid despite torrential rain.
My heart rate had now been raised to cardiac arrest level for about 10 minutes. I could’ve lifted a car with all that adrenaline.
Zoee arrived and with the courage of a valiant knight surveyed the house for a mouse (found none) and blocked all the doors with towels to keep the little bastards confined.
At this point I was more than ready to vacate the premises and head to book club. I enjoyed a wonderful evening with some fabulous ladies despite a lack of electricity. Fortunately Emily keeps a large stash of candles and wine on hand.
What’s also fortunate is that Jim doesn’t seem to possess one ounce of my rodent fear. He’s been a trooper setting traps and ‘removing the goods.’ We’ve caught three mice so far and are continuing our efforts with a vengeance. Stuff like this definitely makes me miss the days of renting and having a landlord who was obligated to fix everything. On the other hand, I suppose one day this will be funny. When that day comes I’ll be sure to let you know.
Did I mention that the roof started leaking during all of this? Right.