Monday, July 07, 2008

it's getting complicated

[i don't want the slant to turn into some strange episodic adventure called, hmmm, "as the mouse turns" or "all my mice" or "beacon street 04103", but...]

i learned five disturbing facts last night from Jen, The Mouse Expert:

1.) i am making an assumption that this is Mr. Mouse. It could well be Ms. Mouse. shit, how would I know? i did not. get. that. close. would i even know what to look for? did i pay any attention, at all, in high school biology? (um, no, i did not. i generally traded in english essays for john campbell's biology test answers. for real. hated. biology. i mean obviously i'm clear about what to look for (and not) in human beings. but mice? not so much.)

2.) if the little squatter is indeed Ms. Mouse, there is a possibility she's also Mamma Mouse. or Mamma-To-Be Mouse. (hmmm. the rodent did seem a little heavy in the belly area.)

3.) on average, Mamma Mouses, errrr, Mamma Mice, can give birth to um, like, ten little rascals at a time. (actually, Jen originally said FIFTY, but when i began hyperventilating, she compassionately adjusted the number.)

4.) they could all be having their own post-4th of july picnic, in my walls, right this minute. (wonderful. my own fucked-up version of A Tell-Tale Heart.)

5.) if i decide to try and trap Fritz, or Fritzess, i need to transport him or her (or, sweet jesus, THEM) to a far away place. like thirty miles away in windham or something. because if i don't, they. come. back. (i'm accepting rides. right. freaking. now.)

nice. oh, and i also learned that mouse poops are small, very small, like ants or something. and yes, before you ask, i did spend the better part of 20 minutes on my hands and knees last night along the Mouse Evacuation Route looking for these ant-sized droppings.

i should also add that the adorable Ms. Mouse Expert seemed to find some enjoyment in freaking me out by sharing said information with me. her laughter was particularly loud when, each time i learned a Special New Fact, i shouted things like "shut the fuck UP, or oh-my-god that's just disgusting, or screw my Buddhist beliefs, i need to squash the little rodent like a bug." um, yeah. the humiliation never ceases.

aw, fuck it. send me that skirt dawn. i. am. coming. undone. ew. ew. ew.

it's not pretty, people. not pretty at all.


Dawn on MDI said...

with white lace ruffles at the hem, darlin', so's you can hold up the edges like a proper lady while you're jumping on the furniture and screaming!

Jenna said...

Dawn, please make sure there are enough yards of fabric so it flows and there is room for a crinoline underneath. Now that would be special, and appropriate, and I might even pay to see pictures of the mouse fearing dyke wearing said garment...

Zack said...

If you do decide to trap the mouse . . . or mice . . . they really like peanut butter, and you can get small live traps. I'd suggest taking them to an island. They come back. There's also the cat method - usually if you have a cat in the house, you'll never see a mouse again.

Jen said...

Hey, when you're ready for me to make cheerful little mouse birth announcements, bake mouse birthday cakes, and help set up tiny mouse daycare centers, I'm there for you. Just say the word.