I have a problem. A mouse has invaded my apartment. Apparently this sort of thing is a normal right of passage for New Yorkers, but I am not handling it very well. To give you a small glimpse of my mental stability when it comes to small creatures, it would be helpful to note the following: when I first moved to NYC, a roach the size of my head welcomed me in my new bedroom on move-in day. I slept three days with the lights on and barricaded my air mattress with about 10 ultra-strength roach traps.
Anyways, back to my mouse. I was in complete denial leading up to the first confrontation. It was around midnight and my sleeping pill had just kicked in giving me a case of the late-night munchies. When I grabbed the loaf of bread off the counter, I noticed a small hole in the plastic had left my bread exposed. Upon further inspection, I noticed the hole in the bag led to a hole in the bread which led to a tunnel that spanned the length of the whole loaf! But it still wasn’t hitting me. All I could think in my medicated state was that I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t noticed the bad bread at the store. And then it occurred to me that maybe the GROCERY STORE had a mouse problem. I threw the bread away and went to bed. Ignorance is bliss.
Two days later, I head to the kitchen late at night. I flip the light switch and see the back side of a mouse seeking refuge in my stove! I froze, unable to catch my breath, my heart racing. This can’t be happening. My apt is so friggin clean!!!! My bread–he’s after my bread! After my temporary paralysis subsided, I gathered my roommates to let them know and we contacted our landlord. That night I slept with the lights and TV on, a blanket barricading my door and my contacts still in my eyes (I wanted to be alert and ready in case of a late night attack). I was so freaked out that I woke up every hour to make sure the coast was clear. Don’t judge me. I’m not here to convince that this is rational behavior.
We set up some traps and a week later, the little monster returned. This time I got a much better look at the little guy. So tiny and quite honestly, he reminded me of my childhood pet, my hamster Splinter. I couldn’t believe I had been so panicked. Knowing that I couldn’t do anything at that moment, I looked at my newest houseguest and said (aloud) “alright, i’m gonna go to bed. You stay there. Oh and don’t get your hopes up, I hid the bread in the fridge. Goodnight!” I slept with the lights off that night. Victory was mine.
He hasn’t been back since, but he seems to only stop by once a week. It helps for me to not think of him like this:
And instead, I think of him more like this:
or my personal favorite:
But don’t get me wrong. I still want him gone. But maybe I’ll use more of a catch and release method rather than a step in glue and starve to death method. I mean, who would do that to Fievel?