Monday, January 22, 2007

2 down

I've written two essays tonight, so I feel like I can take a moment of pause to talk about this.

This is a mouse. Not the one that's wireless to my keyboard, who I figured out tonight was malfunctioning not because I have done some karmic wrong, or because I'm a terrible consumer, but because the batteries were dead. Fine. New batteries.

There's a metal bucket in the kitchen, next the the trash that neither of us seem to be able to take out daily like we constantly promise eachother. In the bucket, about three days ago, I placed a cookie that I didn't like.

See there's a mouse. Actually I'm certain there are at least two. Which means there are probably more, or are going to be. That's the part I don't like.

When there was just one mouse it was the most adorable little rascal I've ever seen. Big ears, shiny healthy coat, blinking happy eyes, and what a sweet tooth. After my own heart with that sweet tooth.

It ate the hannukah geld we forgot to put in the mail away packages. It got into the sealed bags of chocolate-covered nuts. It found any cookie I forgot to take out of my bags, clear from the table, or throw away. It left more wrappers around than my cute boyfriend did. And it shredded them, so I knew who's they were.

But two. Two is about to be an infestation. And the cute adorable little mice aren't potty trained. Which is their fatal flaw.

But right now, while J keeps telling me he's going to get those traps that don't kill them so we can let them loose in the park. And if he doesn't, he'll get those other traps but being the meat-eater of the pair he'll deal with the death end. Right now, I'm trying what I remember of other non-fatal traps. Like the cookie in the big bucket.

I tried the thing Salah told me once, where you take a toilet paper roll with the tiniest bit of peanutbutter and balance it over a big bucket. The mouse walks in to get the peanutbutter and falls into the bucket- wha-lah! But I put the cookie in there so the mouse would be happy.

Instead the tube was spun around, the p-b eaten, and the mouse not in the bucket.

The next day there was some poop in the bucket, I think that was a "over the side" ordeal.

The cookie is still in there, and as there's slim pickins otherwise, so the mouse is checking it out.

Where I sit to write my application essays, I can see the trash. I try to ignore the mice. I'm thinking about my future here. But they're loud. And a minute ago, one walked the entire upper rim of the bucket looking for a way to climb down. That must be the chocoholic mouse. It also enjoys rummaging in plastic bags. It balances its weight with it's cute cute tail, switching inside outside with tail body, perfectly.

If only it wore a diaper or got potty trained. I hope J gets those nice traps soon. I don't know how much longer I can withstand their cuteness. and poop.

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