Let me paint you a little picture. It’s cheap Tuesday here in Ontario (a concept that was eradicated like the plague in Calgary, not surprisingly) at the Cineplex, and so we enjoyed a little date night to see
Silver Lining’s Playbook Skyfall Gangster Squad. It was busy so we had to basically close our eyes and point to select a movie as our first two choices sold out while we were waiting in line. Upon returning home, we wanted to kick the recycling/garbage/compost to the curb before we got settled. So we entered in our side door, I grabbed our small indoor compost bin and took it outside while Graham tended to the recycling. I came back in and was rinsing the compost bin when a small mouse darted FRANTICALLY out from behind our bread bin and stopped short when it reached the sink – around the same time I screamed, shrieked rather, threw the bin in the sink and yelled MOUUUUUUUUUUUSE!!!!!!! – not like an intelligent, independent woman, but rather like some skittish cartoon elephant who then jumps on a chair. Graham comes running, wondering what’s going on as he has never heard his wife shriek in terror like that. The mouse freaks out, runs BACK behind the knife block/bread bin/flour canister and hunkers down to wait.
Graham at one end of the kitchen, I at the other, we stared at the offending corner for a second and then both started asking each other what we should do. Me, an animal lover and him, a pacifist, neither of us was willing to take the “bludgeon” route. So we did what any normal couple at a standstill did: we called our parents. Now I say this not just to say “we called mom and dad,” but to say “we called two people with 14 years of mouse eradication experience.” So Graham talks to them a bit while I helpfully shout “WE’RE BEING HELD HOSTAGE IN OUR OWN HOUSE” in the background.
Also, I hurt my neck when I shrieked and threw the compost bin, so I’m worse for the wear. Basically, I just wanted the mouse to go back to where he came from, we’d get traps tomorrow and let them do the um, removal, of the mice. But I didn’t want the mouse to run ANYWHERE NEAR where I was standing.
So here’s the situation now. I’m on the phone with my in-laws as they provide helpful gems like “put on a dish glove and punch it” and “slam the knife block into it repeatedly.” I’m also holding a video camera and Graham’s about to throw his glove into the corner, and then we’ll all stand back and watch. So we obviously turned off the video camera and hung up the phone before doing anything. Long story long, we made a VERY CLEAR TUNNEL PATH for the mouse from where he was all the way to the open back door. Then Graham slammed his hand on the counter and we saw him jump (the first indication that he was, in fact, still back there), and slammed his hand on the counter again as he took off running IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION of our tunnel. Stupid mouse. The outside is so much more fun for you! There are friendly cats out there! He disappeared in the stove element and we turned them all on to ensure he didn’t come back. Then I nursed my sore neck and wondered all night “is he downstairs right now?”