Monday, October 25, 2010

So, if you're a PETA member or otherwise like small cute furry things you should probably move along. I think there's a baby photo blog next if you just push that little "next blog" button up there.

Furry little jackass.
It's autumn in Colorado which means several things,
1) dark beer
2) peaches
3) youth/college football
4) sweaters make it possible to gain 10 pounds eating cheese
5) all the little freaking furry rodentia that spend their summers frolicking in the sunshine try to suddenly converge on my house.

I have mentioned my overall general un-love for the creatures. In this post, and then again in this one, I chronicle my efforts to rid the world of their creepy little poky noses and weird feet. Their whiskers? Pretty cute, admittedly. But not cute enough to lessen my urge to smash them flat with an Acme safe.

This weekend, as I yelled at children about laundry and drank whiskey to ease the pain of the drudgery that is my life sat peacefully in a reading chair with an afghan and green tea, the gigantic middle schooler ran into the house, "MAWM! Where's the bb guns?"

This is aligned closely with other questions I dread, such as "MAWM - we got any glue?" And "MAWM - which is it I'm not supposed to date, debate team girls or cheerleaders?"

I steeled myself. "Ummm. Why, pray tell?"

Sidebar: I try to use phrases like "pray tell" in everyday conversation with my children. It not only helps keep outdated language alive, but it also makes them look nerdy to both debate team girls and cheerleaders.

The 165 pound cherub retorted, "There's baby mice all over the patio!"

To which I replied, "The bb guns are in the camper, son. Getcher pellet gun."

And then, because we are all about safety over here, I added..."but wear eye protection!"

Spoiler Alert:  the mouse in this neighborhood are safe. Apparently, while my children can hit flying clay targets at 30 yards, little furry things 5 feet away pose too much of a challenge.

However, if those little bastards with cute whiskers cross the threshold of my house, it's bets-off, Mickey. I'm bringing out the big guns.

I'm borrowing a cat.


  1. You are so funny.
    We don't like mice in the house either, but we do love hamsters. One got loose a few years ago and went in the ducts. It smelled horrible for months every time the furnace turned on.

  2. Unless you do it like my best friend's dad.

    Best Friend: "Holy hell! Look at all these baby mice hiding under the wheel barrow!"

    Best Friend's Dad: "Kill 'em before they get in the house!"

    Best Friend: "Good idea, dad! I'll get the cat!"

    Best Friend's Dad: "No, dammit, you just stomp on them." *makes stampy motions as he begins the eradication of vermin offspring*

    Best Friend: *looks down* "Dad, I'm wearing flip-flops!"

  3. And actually, the next blog in line when I pushed the "next blog" button was this one, which actually turned out to be a fairly entertaining read.

    No baby pictures. I'm torn between being upset that you lied to me, and thrilled that there were no baby pictures.

  4. I'd lend you my cat Tulip but she's such a scaredy cat that the baby mice would eat her.

  5. Shoot ... I was hoping for some dead-baby-mice-riddled-with-pellet-holes pictures. Maybe they'll be some when I hit the "next blog" button.

  6. My next-door neighbors like to grow ivy up the side of their house. And the mice like to scamper up the ivy straight into the warmth. Too bad my neighbor's husband isn't the one home on mental-health leave, sitting with a loaded pellet gun in the second floor of the garage, picking off squirrels that are in the yard, just in CASE they're the same squirrels that are trying to get inside our house through the roofline.

  7. Buh. I shuddered while reading this. Hate mice. Get 'em all!

  8. So, what you really need to do is get to work training them like HeroRat. In a matter of months, you could have disease and land-mine sniffing rodents. Perfect for your urban

  9. Not a big fan of mice, either. We had a swarm (?) of them a few years ago in DC. Every time I heard the *snap!* I would tell the husband that he had a visitor.

    Don't tell anyone, but then he would take the dead mice and leave them on our next door neighbor's porch. While we complained of mice, they kept saying the only mice they saw were dead ones.

  10. I don't mind mice. My cats, though, hate them. And since they don't get on me about my loathing of Republicans, I have nothing to say about their mouseicide.

  11. I think that mouse was Tom Cruise's stand-in double for the role in Mission Impossible

  12. Use professional bait by the exterminator man. I live in a meadow, and would be overrun if it weren't for the pros!



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