Yes, I have a mouse in my apartment. Which wouldn't be so bad if 1) I lived in a space larger than 600 sq. ft.; and 2) if it didn't shit everywhere. The other day I went to Books-A-Million and bought some books. While I was checking out, a chocolate bar caught my eye. I don't really care for chocolate (I know, I know) but this one had peppermint stuff on top and I am a sucker for peppermint stuff. Yum-o! I buy the peppermint chocolate bar along with the books. I bring my purchases home, put the bag of merchandise on my desk, and go on about my life. (This is what I always do. I buy two or three books, bring them home, leave them in the bag and let them sit on my desk for a few days. One day I will walk past the desk and remember that I bought books and ta-da!, Merry Christmas to me... except that I paid for them and it's not December. Odd, I know. But whatevs. Walk to your own drummer, people.) So pseudo-Christmas Day comes. I start reading one of the books and put the others on the bookshelf for later. I put the chocolate bar on the kitchen counter, unopened, so I'll remember that I have a tasty treat. In addition to the chocolate bar I also have a piece of Dove chocolate on my desk, which I actually forgot was even there as it was a little piece that was attached to a holiday card I received from a co-worker. (For someone that doesn't like chocolate, I've got a lot of it just laying about.)
So what does all this have to do with the mouse (who I've named Lil Fucker, BTW)? I'm setting up the back story so you don't just think I have random food sitting about the apartment, just hold on a second.
I stayed home Monday because of a stomach illness. While home for the day I see mouse droppings on my desk. Eww! So I clean them up and proceed with disinfecting the desktop. While moving everything off of the desk I see that Lil Fucker has eaten the Dove chocolate. I figure that must be what it came in the apartment for. I clean it up and move on.
Now I'm in the kitchen throwing away my paper towels and putting the disinfectant away when I see that Lil Fucker has eaten half of my chocolate bar with the peppermint topping!! Now I'm pissed. But I figure he's eaten the two things that were sitting out. Surely he has moved on since there is nothing left here for him and off to bed I go.
The next morning, I go in to the kitchen to get a drink of water. As I'm standing in front of the sink, drinking my water, I see that Lil Fucker has SHIT ON MY DISH RAG!! Apparently, Lil Fucker has no home training.
Even though he has eaten all that was sitting out to eat, he does not appear to be moving on. Lil Fucker needs to be taken care of, in a Sopranos kind of way. I make a trip to Lowe's and get traps to catch Lil Fucker. I also make a trip to Eckerd to get bait - a Symphony chocolate bar. I set a trap on the kitchen counter and a trap on the desktop.
Wednesday comes and goes. Empty traps.
Thursday morning. Empty traps.
Thursday evening I get home from dinner and check the traps. I see that Lil Fucker has shit on top of the trap on the desktop. I check the trap in the kitchen. He shit next to the trap. Lovely, the mouse is a smartass. I called my dad to update him on my mouse situation. I tell him the latest developments. He thinks it's soooo funny. Laughter ensues. While I'm talking to him, I'm cleaning Lil Fucker's shit off of the trap and counter and in doing so I tip one of the traps. I put my hand under it to catch the chocolate bait that should be inside. Nothing falls into my hand. I look inside the trap and surprise! NO CHOCOLATE! It. Is. On.
I tried to be nice. I bought traps that would just catch him while giving him a tasty treat, but no, Lil Fucker had to go and be a smartass.
I just got home from Wally World, where I purchased four boxes of Decon. Let's see you shit after eating that, Lil Fucker.