Mouse in the House

We live in the country, so it’s not a surprise to see cute little varmints all over the place.

A couple of nights ago, I was in the living room with my feet on the foot stool and thought I heard a mouse.

Not outside.

Inside.

So, I arm myself with a flashlight and start looking around.

I found evidence, but no mouse.

Drat! Now I know there is one here.

Turn the page in this story to the next day. We’ve been gone more than we’ve been home, and it’s definitely time for a deep clean.

I flip the footstool over.

Yep, the very one I had my feet on a couple of nights ago.

So, I flip the footstool over, AND out falls a baby mouse.

That particular piece of furniture is full of blankets. *shudder* I now know that my mission (and I don’t really have any choice but to accept it) is to pull out the blankets and make sure there are no more mice.

There are! About 10 of them! And you know, where there are babies, there has to be a mama somewhere.

ICK!

And I keep cleaning until Al gets home. I clean all around that trash can like it’s a piece of furniture.

Now, I haven’t seen Al for a week. And the first thing I have to tell him is that we have a mouse loose in the house.

Welcome home, sweetheart!