Under Attack!

There is a mouse.
A mouse.
A MOUSE in my HOUSE!

And I am F-R-E-A-K-I-N-G out!

Okay in all reality, I am sure there is more than just one mouse. There are probably several mice in my house, and my overly-active imagination has me convinced that they are plotting, just waiting around every corner to jump out at me.

Maybe that's an over-reaction.
Let me back up.

Late last month we were out of power for eleven days. I don't know what it was about being out of power, but when we returned home we found that a mouse had left us some little "presents" in my dish towel drawer. We have never, and I mean NEVER, in the five years of living here, had a mouse in our kitchen. There were a few that had made it into the garage when we first moved in, but we replaced the garage doors and that was the end of that problem- until now!

So I did what any manic sane person would do, I threw out every dish towel, cleaned the drawer out, and lied to myself that that was the end of my mouse problem.

Then I found another "present" in the bottom drawer of the stove where I keep the lids to my pots. Then near our furnace. Don't like where this is going? Yeah, me either.

I am totally beside myself as to how this could have happened. Anyone who knows me knows how OCD I am about things being clean. I never EVER go to sleep with dishes in the sink, always wipe counters down before and after use and before bed, mop my floor at least once if not more a week, don't leave food out etc. etc. So where did I go wrong?

I spent the better part of the first week we were back scrubbing every surface, every toy, washing all the blankets and playmats that the babies use just-in-case a mouse had so much as looked at them. It was a lot of work, mainly because in my mind nothing is ever "clean enough," and because I consulted Dr. Google who scared the shiznit out of me when it brought me to pages about the Hanta Virus (we actually don't have this in my state) and some crazy blurb about mice liking babies because they smell like milk! How can you relax at night after reading something like that? I can't!

Then things calmed down, and we had a few beautiful weeks of non-mousey bliss, and all felt right in the world again. I never actually had seen any mice, so I told myself that it was us not being home for that length of time that made them come wander into our home, and that I was sure they had fully vacated the premises before our return-how considerate of them.

I started to feel safe again. To live life the way I had before the mice had come calling. I was once again happy in my home... and then it happened. This morning while cleaning the floor, I found one-lone-"present" waiting for me in the corner. It hadn't been there the night before... it hadn't been there the hour before! That means while the snowflakes and I were playing just a dozen or so feet away, this mouse was helping himself to my - as I later discovered - onions of all things. Blech!

I freaked out. Left hubs a message that was something to the affect of "Oh-my-gosh-there-was-a-mouse-it-pooped-on-the-floor-I'm-outta-here-this-is-NOT-acceptable" then packed the kids in the car and got the hell outta dodge - which really means I drove to Target and walked aimlessly with the babies in the carriage while drinking a tasty treat from Starbucks and waiting for my husband to come home to rescue me.

So yes, it seems. We are under attack.

Eeeek!