I really don’t like mice, not even small ones.
I was working just hours ago when a mouse invaded my workspace. I have a comfy rocking chair with a rocking ottoman. My laptop and I love that I can put my feet up when I’m tired and have work to edit or pages to write. I sat down when a fresh glass of tea, prepared to finish edits on Cheerleader Dad to send to my editor. I had put the glass on a table to my right.
Good thing I looked at the drink before I grabbed it. A mouse stared at me as though wondering what new goodie I had brought for us. Who knows what the critter tasted? I left to grab and bait two traps to put on the table, but the stinker didn’t leave. The traps were small but maybe too heavy duty for the little rodent. I actually left again to get a paper cup and returned to see the animal waiting, unconcerned. This old lady moved fast enough to capture it by covering it with the cup. I even managed to slide the mouse into a plastic bag.
Now it’s gone, flushed down the toilet! I trashed every scrap of candy, even wrapped pieces in a bag, and dumped the drink containers. Who knew whether the mouse shared my drink? For now I will work in a rolling office chair that doesn’t allow me to put my feet up or my head back when I’m tired. I’ll survive.
Would you have screamed or sworn or tried to bash the furry nuisance? I didn’t scream, but I moved quickly. Bashing it would have lead to making a nasty mess on the table and anywhere the stuff on the table went.