Gaslighting...

Clearly, the mice are trying to gaslight me.

Each time it gets REALLY cold, they leave me their calling card.

Now the last time they showed up, was the day the boys and their families were coming to celebrate Christmas. On Tuesday, I open the towel drawer to grab a dish rag and there it is--the calling card. Now, if you have followed the mouse story, you know I want to throw each and every towel and dishrag out. But I don't. I take them to the laundry and wash them in HOT water and bleach. 

I go on with my chores.

I open the silverware drawer to grab a spoon.

Another calling card.

I wash all the silverware. I wrap it all in a plastic bag. I clean and disinfect EVERYTHING in the kitchen.

And honestly, I'm afraid to open any drawers.

Fast forward a couple of days. Everyone has left and finally, I can put out the traps again. Trying to be smarter than the mice, I put a dab of peanut butter in the middle of each trap. I put one in the towel drawer and one in the silverware drawer (I am positive I put one in the silverware drawer. Really. I am)

Sunday morning, as I read the paper, I heard a noise from the kitchen. A slight scrapping noise.

Cool  I think. Got a mouse.

I tell my husband, because as you all know, it says in our marriage contract that I do vomit, messy diapers, etc and he takes care of the creepy crawleys and dead things. This should qualify as both.

The mouse, of course, is still alive when he checks.

We leave it to die alone. 

Tuesday, I come home from school and, not thinking, pull open the silverware drawer. No glue trap. Great. We must have caught another one and Greg took care of them both. Now, being smarter than the mice, I am not going to put anything back in the drawer yet. I am going to put a couple more traps out. 

I open the towel drawer to put the trap in it.

GREG HAS NOT TAKEN CARE OF THE MOUSE IN THE DRAWER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So why is the other drawer empty?

I put a trap in it.

This morning, as I leave for school, I hear a mouse in the silverware drawer. It is obviously having a struggle with the trap. I leave a note for Greg to check the drawer.

I get home from rehearsal and, NO, I do not check the drawers.   

He calls. "I'm almost done at work," he says, "I'm going to run and grab more glue traps. By the way, there was no trap in the silverware drawer this morning."

I cannot find the words. "BBbbbuuuutttt. You should have heard it. I know there was one there. And I know I put a trap in there."

"Well, it wasn't there when I checked."

"Where the hell are those traps!!!!!!"

to be continued...