In the 20+ years we have been in our house, we have our first rodent infestation ever....
When it comes to mice, gophers, or moles, Julie usually freaks out, which she did. Was putting dishes into the sink the other night when I heard a blood curdling scream from the basement...sure enough, she first found some bird seed stashed inside of a Christmas stocking which in turn set off her paranoia radar - big time...That would have been enough but Fate was about to dish up another surprise.....in the form of a movement out of the corner of her eye. That was it: war was declared!
The one good news to come out of all this: she is finally convinced it is time to clean the basement; bad news is I was subjected to an interrogation as to how the little vermin got down there.
Turns out the caulking around the hole cut for the air conditioning line gave way over the summer that was just large enough to allow them to enter. So now I am off the hook....for the moment. So she was up, all night long; with rugs stuffed under the basement doo to prevent them from finding the crumbs in the toaster.
Since she didn't insist on claymore explosives on the door or a machine gun pill box on the stair case to our upstairs, she hardly slept a wink all night long. Almost felt sorry for her....almost. Then again, I have been after her for years to clean that basement without success so having this happen has been nothing short of a god-send! Mohamad didn't move the mountain but a tiny rodent did.....
Last night, she brought two styles of mouse traps: the old fashioned 50 cent special and two more advanced units that have a separate compartment for the bait. Sort of suspected that I would be the sacrificial lamb charged with setting them in the basement; why else would she have an oven baked dinner made ahead of time that included garlic toast...should have set off all sorts of bells and whistle because in Julie's World, "bread" is the Devil-Incarnate and garlic toast is it's main tormentor! vintage trumpet wedding garments with lace
Still, given my task ahead and weighing all my options (well, there were none), I said, "what the hell - why look a gift-horse in the mouth" and ate with gusto....even worked up the nerve to ask her to share one of her giant gourmet cookies we got from the Leland Merc this past Sunday....and she even served it up with a smile! You know the old saying: go big or go home!
Smearing peanut butter in the new version was simple as was setting them. The other was a complete cluster; ended up snapping my fingers a couple of times and got peanut butter smeared everywhere...but in the end, all four were set.
So for the next several hours we sat in front of the TV in hopeful anticipation: The "Wait" for that snap sound from the basement....that never happened. So off to bed we went, but not until she finished watching "The Christmas Card" on Hallmark channel first for the millionth time.
And lo and behold, I went to the basement this morning before leaving for work and found all the cheapo traps had zero bait on them; the first trap by the pump was still set while the fourth contained "gold". Had a brief internal discussion with myself whether or not to take it upstairs to show her but there are only so many freek-outs a person can handle in one week...and besides, hearing a blood curdling scream at 5:30 AM is not my ideal way of waking up.
So I reset the trap and will see if there are any more. Who knows: we may be having steak for dinner tonight!