They aren't exactly the social sort. And they certainly are not ideal guests. You know the well-mannered sort that pick up after themselves. Keep clean. And pitch in with meals now and then. No, sir. This fella, or fellows, hide out in their quarters and (thankfully) have yet to hold a face-to-face conversation with me, their host. They eat my food and they do not clean up after they've taken care of their private business.
Ewww! So gross! Am I right?
Bear in mind, I am the girl who used to store cereal in the refrigerator to keep it away from the ants, but that's another story altogether. Rest assured that I am not eating anything at my house at present. I am the girl, who cried and had to get creative to bury a groundhog because she would not touch the dead rodent with a 10-foot pole. And now, I am the girl who has live rodents living with her. At least the groundhog carcass was OUTSIDE.
So what made yesterday a fail? First I cut myself on my razor. I got makeup all over my sweater at work. I dumped my water bottle in my purse. I spilled ketchup down the front of my white dress. I cut my finger with a knife trying to build a better mousetrap. (I was able to set store bought traps) And I did not catch a single mouse.
The maintenance guy is supposed to set poison and hopefully soon. I am somewhat nervous about stumbling upon the scene of a mouse mass suicide after they all drink the spiked Kool-Aid. But if it keeps them out of my cupboards, I might be able to live with it.