last saturday i saw a mouse in our kitchen. i just happened to glance over and see a little furry thing dart under the oven. after screaming like a little girl, i ran to my computer and emailed the landlord. "send someone right away to remedy the issue", i wrote, sounding so mature about the whole situation.
last night i came home to an empty house (TH is still in London), and a note on the door, something to the effect of "pest control wuz here", and i ran upstairs and straight to my room. i didn't want to see the traps set out or any dead mice laying on the floor.
so i'm laying on my bed, minding my own biz, when i hear "SNAP". a mouse trap. a sickening mouse trap. oh the horror! a mouse, dead in my very own kitchen!! after working up the courage to walk into the kitchen and look with my hands over my eyes for the mouse...i didn't find anything! so now i think that the traps may have been set under the oven, and if you think i'm fishing around under the oven for a dead mouse, you have never met me before.
so. now i have possibly a dead mouse that will rot in my kitchen until TH gets home later this week. unless i can convince a kind and brave soul to come over and help me investigate! i have a pair of boots, a whiffle bat, a snow hat and gloves that will protect you. at least, that's what i wore last night when i tried to find the little (dead) guy.