So I was over on my pal Davi's blog (yes, Davi, in my mind we're really tight) and mid-post she interrupts her story to let the world know about the mouse her cat dragged in.  I started to leave a comment about my own mouse terrors and (after writing a comment long enough to qualify as a blog post) realized that I never shared this story with all of you lovely people!

Today's your lucky day.
Or not.

A little over three years ago, Wade and I moved into an apartment. We got moved in, set things up, and had started to get pretty comfortable.  Winter came 'round and Christmas time was upon us.

One night, we're cuddled up on the couch watching something on the television when all of the sudden, I see a small dark blur out of the corner of my eye as it moves from the storage door to the bathroom door.

I shriek, instantly. It's my natural reaction to tiny creatures.

Heck, even flies.

I literally can't help it.

Wade, oblivious, sees nothing. I convince him to go check it out and, sure enough, a teeny tiny mouse baby is in the bathroom huddled under a basket.

(google image)

Awww. There really is something cute about those big round ears and black eyes with it's long whiskers.

But no. When it's running across your floor, it looks a lot more like this.

(google image)

Yes. I googled "demon mice" and yes, this is EXACTLY the imagery I was going for.
Google, you've yet to fail me.

Anyways, picture that thing running across your floor.
You would have shrieked too.

Needless to say, those things are fast and we didn't catch it. So, I did was any sane person would do and insisted on a trip to Walmart for traps. ASAP.

We set them around and over the next few weeks found SIX mice caught. SIX PEOPLE! That is NOT ok.

One day in particular, I opened my front door to go inside and saw a drugged up mouse (he ate the poison) teetering around in the doorway.  I stood there, frozen. I just KNEW that if I tried to get past him for my broom, he'd find the energy to run, most likely right at my feet. Which really would make me scream.

So, I stood there trying to figure out what to do. Then, in a stroke of genius, I remembered my umbrella in the car. My plan was to use the umbrella to sweep the mouse outside. It was a good plan. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was that scared. It's crazy, I realize.

Thankfully, a neighbor came out and saw me standing like a crazy person with an umbrella, holding it like a sword, and asked if I needed any help. I'm not too proud, so I said yes and asked him to get the mouse out. Hah I don't think he knew what he was offering. But, he did it anyways and I am eternally grateful.

As I was saying, six mice. Within a few weeks.

I called the landlord and she was all, "you're already doing what I would do if I came over there."

Meanwhile, we get a new neighbor who I like to call, "Smokes-a-lot" and our apartment constantly smelled like a bar. It really was so bad. That got the landlord to send over maintenance and see why it was coming through so much.

He takes out the air vent cover and looks in to discover two very important things.

1. The mouse's nest. THANK THE LORD.
And 2. The fact that the air vent area was missing a very important wall which basically meant there was a man-sized tunnel that ran between my unit and three others.  Yeah, that's not supposed to happen.

Now I'm freaking out about all of the scary people who could have crawled into my home.

I'm pretty sure that would be worse than a mouse running across the floor. But they're pretty close.

So, that's my mouse story that somehow I don't think I ever shared.

PS. My family thought our mousey misfortune was so funny that I got mouse-traps for Christmas.

PPS. We used them.