The most eventful thing about my weekend

It was the weekend, I did stuff, blah blah blah. Everything I did has been overshadowed by Saturday night.

I was making dinner (Thai Green Curry – turned out well, thanks for asking) quite late on Saturday night, about 9.00pm. This was mostly to do with getting up later than even I would like to admit on Saturday…afternoon. So cook, cook, cook. I went to get the rice out of the cupboard, and with my back half turned to the rest of the kitchen (but importantly with one half still towards it) out of the corner of my eye I saw a mouse run across the floor. Let me repeat that, a mouse ran across the floor. Ross, I’d like you tell you that I expressed utter joy at seeing one of God’s creatures share my humble abode with me, but there was definitely a swear word. Or two. Well alright, there were a series of them. (Ross and Mother skip to the next paragraph now.) One phrase that repeated itself had ‘hell’ at the end, in the middle a royal title that wasn’t ‘queen’ and I'm sure you know the letter it started with. But again I tell you a mouse ran across the floor so there was good reason for the obscenities.

You see I don’t like mice. Not one bit. I’m not one of those girls that runs a mile when there is a spider or wasp (coughLynseysplutter). But along with birds on the ground, I am scared of mice. This is as direct result of summer camp. The eve of my 21st birthday was spent listening to a mouse running around our cabin. After a few hours of not being able to sleep because of the noise of it scratching and the fear that it would crawl over me, I eventually caught the beast in a box and put it outside. Megann was of no use whatsoever during the night. Oh she woke up alright. But promptly went back to sleep and leave me to deal with the brute on my own. Next morning I went out to get the box and discovered that its tail was stuck under something so hadn’t moved all night. Worse was to come however.

Megann and looked more carefully around our cabin and began to see all the signs of mouse activity. Most of Megann’s t-shits were chewed, food was eaten and there was mouse poo. But again, worse was to come.

I checked my clothes which were in my case under my bed. I discovered that the mouse from the night before was, in fact, Mummy Mouse. To my absolute horror, inside the case were three little baby mice. I don’t know a lot about mice but these looked fairly new born. They were all pink and, well, foetus like. Megann and I told ourselves as we threw them into the woods they’d survive and that Mummy Mouse would find them. You see, I’m all for nature and what not, but so long as it stays where it belongs. Outside.

I’m fairly adept at keeping an eye out for mice now. Any little speck of dirt I inspect closely (but not too closely) to see if it’s mouse poo. I have never found any evidence of mice in my house until Saturday night when, sadly, there was irrefutable evidence.

So I stood frozen to the ground with the rice in my hand. I looked to see where the mouse had run to. Turns out there’s a hole underneath the cabinet. This is being sealed imminently. But not wanting to ruin a good Thai Green Curry, I kept on cooking, telling myself that the mouse would probably not come out if I made enough noise. I couldn’t settle however so straight after dinner I ran out to Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart being Wal-Mart, it presented me with a choice of mouse traps but there were only a few minutes until it closed. So in the situation of having to make a fast choice I chose a variety pack for an all round offensive strike. It had two traditional mouse traps, or ‘snap traps’, four glue traps (which are what they sound like, a layer of glue which the mouse sticks to) and a bait box with bait. When I got it home, the bait box scared me a little. I didn’t want to have to open it to find a mouse inside, so I went with the other six traps, and following the instructions for best placement I really did feel better. I would go to bed and hopefully on Sunday morning I’d come down and see the being dead in one or tother of the traps.

In my list of scenerios however, I did not consider the possibility that the traps would have worked by 12.30am Sunday morning. From the front door you can see through the kitchen. I know now that from there you can also see a mouse stuck in a glue trap trying to break free. More swear words ensued. Minutes passed and I don’t think I moved an inch. What really scared me was that the mouse had moved itself and the trap about a foot from where I had left the trap. I didn’t want it to get out of the glue, but neither did I know how to stop it.

I got my phone and started to scroll down through the names. ‘Who could I call at 12.30am who’d answer and also would be able to tell me what to do? George and Virginia? No too late. Jose? No, in Europe. Maggie? No she’s out and will never hear her phone. Megann! I’ll call Megann!’ No answer. ‘Dammit she’s asleep! (Later she, rightly, pointed out the unusefulness of calling her given her help in my last mouse emergency, or lack thereof) ‘Roma and Wayne? Definitely too late.’ I got to the end of the list and there was only one option left, Will, one of Jose’s friends. I ummed and ahhed a bit over whether I could call essentially a friend of a friend about a mouse trying to get out of a glue trap in the middle of the night. But staring down the barrel of a mouse as it were, I knew I had to.

The conversation went something like this.

Will: Hello (sounding a bit confused, no doubt about the lateness and randomness of the call)
Tina: Hiya Will (too flustered to even tell him who it was)
Will: Hey Tina (my accent is that obvious then) Whatcha up to?
Tina: Sorry for calling so late, are you still up? You’re obviouly still up. Anyway the thing is I have a mouse emergency (talking way too fast for a southerner this late at night)
Will: You have a what?
Tina: A MOUSE EMERGENCY! (actually thinking ‘dammit boy understand me!’)
Will: Well where is it?
Tina: It’s in a glue trap and it’s trying to get out. Will it get out?
Will: I don’t think so.
Tina: WILL! Don’t tell you don’t think so, tell me you know so!
Will: laughter
Tina: Don’t laugh!!
Will: more laughter

When Will stopped laughing he suggested to me that I should try and kill it with a heavy book or shoe or something. I said I didn’t think I could do that. I mean it wasn’t like the thing was half dead. It was still very much alive, and I could see it. So then he said that I should try to get it outside using a dustpan. Great plan and it worked well, but it was made so much harder when you’re holding a phone. I carefully pushed the trap onto the dustpan with an ice scrapper thing so as not to get my hand too close lest it should bite. I didn’t think to orientate it so that it wasn’t looking directly at me as I carried it outside.

Tina: It’s looking at me!
Will: It’s looking at you?! Well you're an awful lot bigger than it! (clearly wanting to say ‘oh dear goodness, just get on with it woman’)

So job done and the mouse safely outside, I apolgised again, thanked him and hung up. But still I could not rest. I thought it still might unstick itself. Then a stroke of genius hit me. Put a glue trap on top of it. Ha ha! The beast’ll never get out from that.

But just to make sure I stood on it.

Mice don’t suvive that you know. But I checked every time I walked past the front door.


The mouse was clearly bricking it. Much like I was (although not actually you understand).


That’ll be the butt of a former mouse.

So just incase there was any doubt, I am so my mother. Except of course for the swearing.