Our Mouse

Now that Thanksgiving dinner has been picked over and our children are settling into their beds, watching a movie on their ceiling (thanks to this cool little gift from Auntie Barb), I can turn my attention to the coming holidays and fun winter activities.

The boys and I will be going to the Nutcracker play in Homer again this year. If you can't make it to the Nutcracker Ballet in Anchorage, the Nutcracker in Homer is an altogether wonderful, different experience, and is far cheaper to attend. The boys favorite scene in the Nutcracker story is, of course, the battle between the toy soldiers and the mice. Swords clanging, a mutated mouse who has made himself the king, a violent, bloody death. Whats not to love? Its too bad they weren't around for my encounter with a mouse in our house!

Late one night, last month, I woke to make a bottle for our baby. I shuffled into the kitchen, following the light from the lamp on the piano. The kitchen was completely dark, but I navigated my way to the range and turned on the burner under the kettle. I flipped on the range hood light just after lighting the burner and as my eyes adjusted to the light, something moved off to the left on the counter! I stepped back and just then a little mouse darted out from behind the bottles of oil and vinegar on the counter. He ran to the edge of the counter, noticed me standing there and ran around for a moment, searching for another escape route. And then... he ran INTO the flame under the kettle! I wasn't sure if he had survived and I smelled singed fur. I was shocked! He had wanted to escape so badly that diving into the fire was better than facing me!

I can skin a caribou and swing a hammer, but mice bother me. They're sneaky and I worry about stepping on one in the dark! I made my husband get up to check that the mouse wasn't dead and laying under my cook top, and after he set some rodent poison behind the stove, we went back to bed. We know that the mouse was making his trips to the kitchen via the holes left (presumably for plumbing repairs) that are still unfixed behind the stove. He didn't go for the poison. A week or so later, my husband wakes me up by shushing me while I was sleeping (do I snore?) and tells me to listen.... the mouse is in our bedroom, nibbling on what is probably a chip or nut dropped by one of us during our bedtime snacking (guilty). Since then, we have heard the mouse in the walls, the dining room ceiling, and most frequently - our bedroom (we have GOT to stop snacking!) It seems like our mouse is now a permanent resident. For now, I'm okay with that. He's a hearty little sucker.