We have a mouse!
Cary walked in on him as the chunky critter scooted and slipped as he slowly attempted to scurry back to his hole. So we've (uncreatively) named him Chouse (chubby mouse).
(Yes... somehow naming pilfering, disease-riden, abhorrent rodents makes it slightly easier to sleep at night)
We actually found the mouse last week. I was mortified. So we cleaned and set out traps and Cary, my mom, and Jo successfully laughed it off and calmed me down.
Well, we left for the weekend and came home to not a dead mouse (which would have been wretched because of the smell and general unpleasantry of the situation)...
but, worse, a hole in the top of the pantry and evidence of a late night mouse binge.
Chouse, apparently was destined for our house as he also craves Krusteaz pancake mix (my 5 lb bag... I may have shed a tear) and Cary's chocolate stash. No wonder he's such a chunk.
Well, thanks to Cary (I am completely worthless when it comes to critters and spiders) the house has been chloroxed enough to fool anyone into thinking our kitchen is also a pool, and we have laid a death ring for little Chouse.
Now, a hundred dollars later... I am looking for a new apartment and trying not to despair over what it'll cost me to replace everything Chouse ruined.
Yeah... good night in the tippets residence :(
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