My worst fear has come to pass.
The mouse has become mice.
::cries a sad cry::
Yesterday, Jimalyn and I decided enough was ENOUGH. Please note that at this time we still believed we were dealing with one mouse. Singular. The exterminator had come twice to no avail. The poison bait traps which mice are supposed to “eat up like chocolate” (exterminator’s own words) had gone untouched. We decided to go old school on the mouse. Snap traps. They’re classic for a reason, right?
I came home to find that the lovely Miss Jimalyn had successfully set up two traps. I was feeling confident. I walked into the kitchen just in time to see a gray tail disappear behind the trash can. I yelled a few choice expletives and ran out. I tried stomping my feet in order to scare it away. The minute I stopped stomping, I heard the trap snap. I screamed yet again, grabbed my stuff, and bolted out of the apartment. I was absolutely shaking but I felt at ease. This was it, wasn’t it? This is what I had waited for. Ding dong, the mouse was dead! My confidence swelled to new heights. Well, pride goeth before the fall, as the old saying goes…
After class, I rushed home once again to confirm with the roomie that the mouse was, in fact, dead. She confirmed that yes, a mouse was dead.
::pause for reaction::
A mouse was dead.
It was small. An infant. This was not the mouse we have long dreaded these weeks. This was its accursed offspring. And where there is one mouse baby, there are at least 3-6 more. Plus, the big mama herself. This epic battle has just begun.
Another mouse has perished in the course of the evening. I will not rest until all are vanquished. Partly because I’m so freaked out that I won’t be able to sleep.