Invaded!

I’ve been lamenting since last week about what I would write about for my column.  If any of you are like me, you’ve been feeling a lot of emotion this past week following the election.  For some of you good emotion and for some of you bad.  So, I decided that I am not going to talk about it.  We’ve all had enough,  haven’t we?  Instead, I’ll fill you in what’s been happening at our house. 

 

Do you know what we have at the Burdorf house?  Mice.  As in plural, of course.  Aaron had seen one way back over the summer and we set traps, never caught it and we didn’t see it again.  Fast forward to a few weeks ago and Jenna coming out of the bathroom to inform us that a mouse (or rat, in her words) just ran under the dryer.  Awesome.  

 

Last week Jenna and I had to run to Marshalltown to get some groceries and other stuff.  I had a question about a battery on my list and I called Aaron to ask him.  The conversation went something like this:

Aaron: I’m kind of in the middle of something, can I call you back?

Me: In the middle of what?

Aaron: Well, the boys and I trapped a mouse behind the couch and we are trying to catch it.  

Me:  GET IT!  Yes, bye. 

 

We got home and learned they didn’t catch it and that it made it down one of the vents in the living room.  Aaron shut the vent and assured me everything was fine.  Later that same evening when all the kids were in bed, we were watching television and the mouse went running behind the t.v.  Aaron had a big plan about us trying to shoo it out the front door or catch it.  He handed me a giant bucket.  That conversation went something like this:

Me (as I’m standing on the couch refusing to put my feet on the carpet): What do you expect me to do with this bowl?

Aaron: Try to catch the mouse.

Me: You try to catch the mouse!  I never said in my marriage vows that I will kill mice!  I kill snakes and spiders and wasps.  NOT MICE.  They are creepishly fast and freak me out!  

What ensued was the mouse running lightening fast into another vent.  *sigh*

 

Sunday we bought eight sticky traps (God Bless Hometown Foods).  Monday Jenna and I walked in to a mouse fighting for its life in one of them!  We stood on the kitchen chairs until Aaron got home to get it out of the house.  HA!  I can’t help it, I was in fear that it would escape.

 

My mom used to say mice are like deer, where there’s one there’s about 50.  Well, I have never forgotten that and while I was happy we had gotten that one, I knew there was a possibility of more.

Last Thursday morning, my nightmare came true.  I came into the house early after working out, grabbed my water bottle off the table and went to fill it up in the sink.  As I was about to reach for the faucet there was a mouse bounding across the windsill above my sink, across my counter and who knows where it went because I was screaming at the top of my lungs.  I’m not afraid to admit that I thought I was going to have a heart attack and yes, I did wake up the rest of the house.

 

We now have 12 sticky traps set and have yet to catch that mouse.  Aaron thinks he figured out where they might have been coming in and put some of that spray foam in the hole.  He did that before I saw the mouse though, so I’m convinced it’s now trapped inside the house, waiting to pounce and scare me to death.  I’m continually on edge.

 

I know some of you all are probably laughing at me and that’s ok.  I probably would be too.  I am not a farm girl and mice just paralyze me with fear!  I think it’s because they are so, so fast and their tails give me the chills.  Gross. 

 

I guess this story is to be continued.  If you hear a scream from the southeast part of State Center, there’s a good chance it could be me, but that’s just the way I see it. 

 

UPDATE: We caught a mouse this morning and I got it out of the house all by myself (with a little help from Brody)!