Saturday, August 04, 2018
Mouse Hunt
In one of the classiest developments of all time, my mother informed me last week that she believed a mouse had taken up residence in her car. Her evidence was compelling: someone had chewed on a plastic container of breath mints, and it sure as shit wasn't me. (Even more exciting, the mints themselves had also been chewed on, something she realized when she put one in her mouth.) Now, in my mother's driveway in rural downstate Illinois, an automotive mouse visitor may be the stuff children's books are made of, but here in my urban garage, it's kind of a red alert event. I could not help but imagine a whole family of little vermin setting up camp in my box of remaindered Bar Show costumes or something. So traps were purchased, and duly set.
A week later, the enemy has been vanquished. Or at least one enemy, I suppose. Though I quite intentionally purchased the sort of traps that are supposed to be humane and not involve touching a mouse corpse, the mouse apparently took the poison to go rather than drifting off peacefully in a high-comfort plastic box. So yeah, I ended up palming a dead rodent today, how about you? Admittedly, I wore gloves and used a plastic bag, but still I feel the need for seven to ten showers. And now I wanted to share it with all of you. I'm just that generous.
In one of the classiest developments of all time, my mother informed me last week that she believed a mouse had taken up residence in her car. Her evidence was compelling: someone had chewed on a plastic container of breath mints, and it sure as shit wasn't me. (Even more exciting, the mints themselves had also been chewed on, something she realized when she put one in her mouth.) Now, in my mother's driveway in rural downstate Illinois, an automotive mouse visitor may be the stuff children's books are made of, but here in my urban garage, it's kind of a red alert event. I could not help but imagine a whole family of little vermin setting up camp in my box of remaindered Bar Show costumes or something. So traps were purchased, and duly set.
A week later, the enemy has been vanquished. Or at least one enemy, I suppose. Though I quite intentionally purchased the sort of traps that are supposed to be humane and not involve touching a mouse corpse, the mouse apparently took the poison to go rather than drifting off peacefully in a high-comfort plastic box. So yeah, I ended up palming a dead rodent today, how about you? Admittedly, I wore gloves and used a plastic bag, but still I feel the need for seven to ten showers. And now I wanted to share it with all of you. I'm just that generous.
