Mice, Mice Baby

December 02, 2004
Last night, as I sawed logs peacefully, beneath my comfy, purple tee-shirt sheets and comforter (and Mr. B sawed his little sticks – snuggled near my right calf) a nightmare was taking place in the master bedroom – a.k.a. Chad’s room.

Fast forward to this morning – I walk into his room to find the white noise machine going at full blast – the television is on – but muted and I can see that he has cotton in his ears. This is something he has never resorted to in the past. I realize that something bad has happened in the night. Something very bad.

“Shmoo” I whisper. (That’s his pet name – because once he was wearing this all white outfit and for some reason the Shmoo image popped into my head (guess it was way in the back of my subconscious) and I have called him that ever since. In case you don’t know about the Shmoo – click here to see. (P.S. I sometimes refer to Mr. B as “Baby Shmoo”)

“Shmoo, what’s going on? What’s happened?”

He moans. His face is beet red.

“The mice,” he whimpers. “It was the mice.”

Now – I know we’ve seen an occasional mouse and Mr. B has killed 2 – and Chad has killed 3 or 4 with traps. But, apparently, with the drop in temperature last night – a small squadron of them (Chad said it sounded like hundreds) decided to have some sort of Fiesta de Squealing & Scratching inside of the wall behind the TV in his room. Apparently, this kept him up all night. He tried banging on the walls. He turned up the TV. He went in search of glue traps – all in vain. Mouseapalooza continued on.

None of this caused neither I nor Mr. B to stir.

Which reminds me – he actually said he considered coming to get Mr. B and put him on the search – then realized that Mr. B really had no “inner wall” access. He was delirious, I suppose.

So this morning he put me on the search for an extermination service - which is another thing to add to the list of “Things you were horrified to know the real price of.” We signed up for a 12 month service – at a cost of $72 every other month. Niiiiiiiice. Perhaps I will sacrifice my gym membership so that we can continue our life of leisure. (heh heh).
Anyway – they’re coming out today.

I’m really terrified of what the Orkin man is going to say. I can just imagine the guilt trip he will send me on. Okay – so the counters aren’t always wiped down before we tumble into bed at night . . . Okay-so the mouse has access to the dog’s food . . . Okay- so we have tiny signs around the perimeter of our house saying “All Rodents welcome – Free food! Shit anywhere you’d like!”

I’m so afraid I’ll be arrested or something – for being an inadequate and filthy person. Oh the SCORN!!! I don’t even want to be there when the Orkin man comes. I don’t want to face his looks of disgust.

I feel sick to my stomach.

10:55 a.m. ::
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