Wednesday, November 19, 2008
I'm sure it won't be the last time
We're experiencing a mouse problem in our house. The beasties must think that my house and the house two doors down are winter vacation homes. I do have the heart to kick them out, forcibly if necessary.
We called in our exterminator (you need one on call in New Orleans with the termites, roaches, and rodents that share this city) to set some more traps. The first ones we put in the cabinet where we first saw the mice are still there, waiting for some mouse to taste the peanut butter. Perhaps this is why these mice are still around . . . they know to avoid the traps.
Yesterday, Mr. Exterminator came and poked and looked and decided that the mice like the sleeper sofa. We pushed it close to a bank of windows and barricaded the back so the kids and dog wouldn't poke at the traps. I told the my son about it as he was with me at the time. He nodded. We waved goodbye to Mr. Exterminator, knowing we'd see him again when he brought the bait boxes to put under the house. (See? Told you I was kicking them out forcibly.)
In the midst of making lunch, I heard two snaps. I looked at the couch only to see my dog behind the couch shaking her head. "Get out of there," I yelled. White Dragon did her best antelope impersonation and leaped gracefully over the back of the couch.
My son followed me to the couch where I checked to see how many of the traps she'd sprung. "Damn you, Ursa," I uttered.
From beside me I heard my son's voice, "Damn you, Ursa."
Like I said, I'm sure it won't be the last time. It was, however, the first time I've slipped. I'd say that's a pretty good track record for nearly 7 years of having children.