Of Mice and this Woman--not the novel either!

ICKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK.

Well... I have a new friend. His name isn't Ricky-the-rat or some other name given to a fake mouse/rat purchased to scare me in the middle of the night. Nope.... I have a real one - all to myself.

On Thursday evening my wonderful husband announced that he had to go to the cottage ALONE so that he could concentrate on his upcoming presentations beginning next week. He needed to hide and lock himself away from phones, co-workers, and even his wife. So I bid adieu to him gleefully. He had been in a cranky mood all week due to work issues and really wanted "Mikey time". See ya!

The plan was for me to go grocery shopping on Thursday night and get up early-ish on Friday and drive to the cottage and clean before Kate arrived. The weather man announced it was going to be gorgeous and warm and we took that as a perfect Sunslut type of day!

So.... off to the grocery store I went. I bought a gallon of milk and once home I settled in downstairs for a night of trash chick TV (HGTV etc) and poured myself one white russian, and another, and another. I kept hearing a bird/bat flapping around in the gas fireplace and it was frankly annoying the crap out of me. We have one of those gas ones that is for looks only and also fires out the heat from the bottom vent. So.... thinking I'd gas out the bird, I tried to turn on the fireplace. It wouldn't light. So I lift up the little vent-y thingy and have a look. Didn't see a auto button to push, so I thought I'd try the regular switch again.... it worked! So, even though it was 65 outside, I decide to have the fire going for about 10 minutes. Long enough for it to start heating up the room -- so I turned it off, sat back down, and had my nose back into the Kahlua.

My eye caught like a flash of lightening or something and I thought "wowsie.... I might be seeing things now!".... but nope.... here comes a GIGANTIC mouse scattering by trying to crawl up the glass front of the fireplace. I screamed at the top of my lungs, blood curdler. No one was home but this creature and his buddies. I literally jump up and grab the phone and RACE up the stairs.

I didn't care that the bar lights were still on, or that the phone would need to be hung up downstairs... nope... I was NOT hanging around. I called Orkin at 9:15 pm and found out that they close at 5. WTF? Mice don't work on a 9-5 schedule. Mice don't care that my husband is gone. Orkin's answering service (what just like a doctor?) said that they would call me back on Friday MORNING... as in, oh-my-god-do-you-really-think-I'm-going-to-sleep-here-with-this MONSTER running around? A resounding NO was mentally released.

Then, I call my sister. Ah yes, my sister -- the one who introduced me to mice turds and mice in general. She's the one who taught me what mouse turdies look like (chocolate sprinkles for those that don't know), and I figured she would commiserate with me. While speaking to her I was watching the bottom of the steps and see the damn mouse running back and forth between the TV room/home theater and into the workout room/fly-tying room. EEKS. I counted six times, and I'd scream each time. I was convinced that it was going to come upstairs.

I went to the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink to grab the mouse house killer poison trap, and find my chamois rag FULL OF MOUSE TURDS. Fresh ones. That did it. I told Kate there was no way in hell that I was going to sleep in that house, alone, and with a mouse/mice running around. I grabbed whatever I needed and got out of there by 10:00 pm.

In my haste I forgot my glasses (blind at night w/out them), and couldn't quite find my cell phone. Didn't care -- needed to escape and FAST! I did, however, remember to call my DH at the cottage and tell him I'd be coming tonight and to be damned with what he wanted. He wasn't happy!

It wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done to drive back country roads late at night with allergy weepy eyes, blind as a bat, and have three drinks in me. I made it. I survived. And I immediately went to bed and crashed.

Friday morning comes and I decide to call Orkin from the cottage.... they cannot come until today (Monday). No big deal since I was outta there and wouldn't be coming home until late Sunday. The service manager lady laughed at me when I told her I bolted to the cottage over a silly BIG mouse. Yeah well... easy for her to be all smug and stuff.... she actually likes mice. Who the hell LIKES mice?

The Orkin man showed up this morning with new traps in hand. He found the hole where the bugger got in. It was in the fireplace gas line to outside. No sign of the critter though. Crap.... does that mean he's hanging around for an encore? I pray not. The guy told me that the mouse probably left the same way he came in... thru that hole. Yeah right... nothing like trying to calm an hysterical woman. I don't buy it for a second. lol

Then.... he had to tell me that mice CAN crawl up brick houses. WTF? They can? So I have to worry about that now? I was soooooo happy believing that they will never come up to the 3rd level. Wrong-o. Hrfffffffff..........grunt grunt.

So... hear I sit. I refuse to go watch tv in that room. I made DH go and look upon our return last night. He's not a mouse fan either, but had no problem looking. I still remained upstairs reading comfortably (thank you Kindle!) with my feet up on a table, lest a mouse were to run by!!!!!!

I hate mice.