MUSOPHOBIA: Fear of mice

MUSOPHOBIA: Fear of mice

So-- a month ago I purchased the most wonderful home. Just perfect for what I need right now. I've been taping, painting, pulling tape, packing, and moving for the past few weeks. Everyday that I've worked on the house is a day closer to actually living in my new, beautiful home.


Last Saturday, Breauna and I moved all of my stuff down from Logan, including couches, bed, dressers, bookshelf, desk, and boxes of "good deals". (Lance and Brad and Tanja helped load it into the U-Haul in Logan. Thanks guys!!) We spent the night there--- it was my first night in my very own casa! Exciting! Stella and I enjoyed my heated mattress pad for its first appearance of the season and all was well in my new abode.

Sunday after church, we enjoyed a long-awaited Sunday nap. Just as I was waking up, I heard Lorenzo saying something from in the dining room. I won't repeat it. He then began to explain that he had seen a "little friend" run across the floor and into one of the open heating vents. (The heating vents have all been taken off for painting purposes.) HOLY CRAP! I sat up very quickly and begged him to tell me he was joking.

The last mouse I saw was a gift from the family cat, Sunny. I was stomping on it in my boots for a good 15 minutes before I realized that it wasn't just a fuzzy strawberry left in front of my mom's kitchen sink. Sunny loves to bring in presents and leave them for us to admire. Another HOLY CRAP is definitely appropriate here. Anyway. Needless to say, I screamed for five minutes that day before JP came running downstairs to see who was murdering me. Basically he found me crumpled up on the stairs hyperventilating and in tears. SO- I DO NOT have any memories of cute little furry mice that my mother tries desperately to convince me are cute. I have never, never, EVER, EVER liked rodents of any kind. Ty, Breauna's brother that lived with us in Logan for awhile, owns a couple of sugar gliders. Um- ya. I feel horrible, but I never did get used to them (or like them). I don't know what it is about them-- I just CANNOT handle rodents.

OKAY- So back to the current situation. I haven't been able to sleep in my house since the sighting of the mouse. I tried. I really tried. I was even getting ready for bed on Monday night. BUT then I heard it. The mouse was in the kitchen. It was scratching and gnawing at Stella's bag of food. (Proof: there was a hole in the bag the next morning.) I was home alone and I didn't have my phone to call for help, so I took my dog, took my keys, and drove straight to my mom's house. I might have cried a little that night.

I called the exterminator the next day, but I had to wait until yesterday (Wednesday) for the Orkin guy to come. Unfortunately or fortunately (I'm not sure which yet) he "convinced" me to wait a week and try my own traps. He said that he thought that there was probably one mouse in my house and that I could probably catch it on my own. Seriously. I'm not that brave, people! What about the NESTS of mice I've read about online??!!?

Last night we set up two peanut butter traps. It has been a super long day today, so I didn't get over there until about 8pm tonight. I coerced Kjersty to come with me. She is braver than me. At first we didn't think the traps worked. Upon closer examination, we found a MOUSE in one of the traps! I was a lot calmer than I expected, but still I couldn't look at it. We left.

After picking up a few paper grocery bags from Stop N Shop around the block, we came back to be oh so brave and dispose of the mouse. My conscience, although guilty of wanting the mouse dead, wouldn't allow me to just throw the mouse away in the cold garbage. After much screaming and hollering, many "I hate you so much right now, Kjersty"s and some jumping up and downs, Kjersty and I drove the mouse to a park ten blocks away and she threw it out into the grass. And I mean she flung the mouse as soon as she opened the trap. I'm still HORRIBLY mad at her for FORCING me to carry the mouse in the car. What a bad friend. (Okay- so WHAT if the mouse was locked in a box inside of two paper grocery bags being held outside of the car? My hand was FREEZING!) But I am glad that she was brave enough to open the box and give the mouse a second chance at survival. Let's just all pray that the mouse doesn't have a miraculous sense of finding its way back to my home!

Now. I left the second peanut butter trap out tonight at the house. I'm not convinced that there was only one mouse. We'll see tomorrow. I really hope that someday I will be able to live in the home that I am paying mucho dinero for. Call me a chicken. Call me a scaredy cat. But whatever you do... DO NOT call me a mouse lover.

Because I'm not.

P.S. anyone have a cat?