Rodent Paradise

cute!

Mice. Or rats. Whichever. Point is, we've got 'em. There can't be just one. These little fuckers managed to eat every chip in every bag ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE. How the hell they got up there, I'll never know. And there were many, many bags of chips, pretzels, and goodies up there. They ate EVERY LAST CRUMB.

So I emailed the landlord, asking what we are to do about it. She asks if I've seen the little fat-asses. Well, no, but there is a gnawed-out hole in the wall next to the fridge, it (or they) have knocked down things from the top of the fridge, and one took some royal liberties with a very delicious apple that I was planning on eating. Oh, and we can hear them in the walls, building a fortress of solitude.

"How large is the hole?"

"About 2x3 inches."

"Well it's obviously a mouse because a rat would never fit through there."

Okay, does she know anything about rodents? I used to have pet gerbils (the only pet to which I wasn't allergic), and those little guys could squeeze themselves under and through the smallest openings. Plus, as we lived across from a field, we used to get little mice in the house every so often. I've seen them. I know the signs.

In fact, my dad would corner the little guys in the linen closet, hold a garbage bag completely over the bottom opening, and wait for them to run into the bag. He would then trot across the street, find a nice area, and let them go. So they could get together and plot on how to get back into the house stocked with Better Made potato chips (chips that we eventually had to store in the microwave so they couldn't get them. That was one thing - my dad loves his Better Mades. Don't mess with his chips, for reals - he'll corner you in the linen closet).

That's why I have a hard time killing spiders and other assorted insects that find their way into my house. My dad used to catch spiders and take them outside - something that I continue to do. Even in college, when I was living in a basement apartment, and the biggest, hairiest spider I had EVER SEEN decided to chill on my living room carpet for awhile, I trapped him under a bowl and took him outside. I was fine until he jumped at me. I shrieked all Homer-like and ran away. Classic. I found out later that he was a wolf spider. Yummy!

Centipedes, however... they die. SMOOSH under my flip flop. And any unfortunate pervert spiders who get into the shower with me? They get a nice, long swim. I don't like eight eyes on my when I'm all vulnerable...

Anyway, all I really wanted to know is whose responsibility it was to rid the apartment of the fucking rodent freeloaders. I wasn't sure if it was in the lease. According to her, it's our move. Apparently.

So when I was in Chicago, Jenny cleaned and organized the HELL out of the kitchen. There are snap traps (of which I am none too happy about, but I guess it's better than putting out poison and having them die in the walls). Not that it matters anyway - the fuckers tripped the wire thingy and then ate all of the peanut butter. LICKED IT CLEAN. And they've done this every night since. CreePaul thought that it would be a good idea to bring a cardboard box home from work and trap them in it. Because they'd probably find it to be the craziest, most complex prison EVER. They probably wouldn't gnaw through it, considering they gnawed through a PLASTER WALL. The plan gets better, though. Once the mouse (or meeces) were caught, he would then hurl it out the door into the parking lot. BRILLIANT plan.

Anyway, they really weren't bothering me until they ate my honey twist pretzels. I love those. I can just see this turning into us destroying the house as we try and trap them and at the end of the story, they're giggling in the rubble of our house as we stand, dejected, covered in soot.