Reject du jour: mouse in the house
(Rejected cartoon by Carolita Johnson.)
There is a mouse in my house, which is what reminded me of this old rejected cartoon. Not that there are any crumbs under my sofa cushions! Nein! My sofa is as crumb-free as any other obssessively mouse-avoiding person’s sofa should be.
I have placed humane traps – which I went to great trouble to procure – in places that I thought were guaranteed to score a live capture. I imagined myself freeing the little mousie in the alley downstairs, gently admonishing her not to come back to my house, watching her scamper gratefully away. After setting the traps, I filled every hole in my apartment with steel wool. For three weeks, I thought perhaps I’d locked the mouse out while she was out on an errand. I haven’t heard an odd scratchy noise, or any pitter-patters of little feet in my oven. But last night, I nearly gave the mouse (who had perhaps been away on vacation) a cardiac arrest.
I had been sitting in the armchair in my kitchen when suddenly to the left of me came trotting the little mousie, as if at the end of a long day, minding her own business. Involuntarily, I let out a very loud scream and jumped up on the armchair (how pathetic is that?—to be fair, seen out of the corner of my eye, I was afraid it was a giant cockroach). The mouse literally lost control, much the way a car would on an oil slick, sliding and sprawling sideways, doing a one and a half turn in the air before zipping this way and that way, not sure which way to flee. I felt almost sorry for it.
But why didn’t the peanut butter in my humane traps work? Because it’s “crunchy” and not “smooth”? The friend I shopped for the bait with figured mice would like “crunchy” better. So, I did some research today, wondering if there was something mice like better than peanut butter. Apparently they like peanut butter, oats, water, chocolate, and “nesting materials” equally well. I’ve come to the conclusion that my mouse is just finicky.
“Mouse in the house” reminds me of “bats in the belfry,” which reminds me of the “crazy astronaut lady,” who I think makes her first appearance in music video culture in the clip you’ll find on S/FJ’s blog, here. (I’m grateful she’s made her appearance in a spacesuit and not diapers.)
