The Blue Lotus
Auror
I don't know if this goes here or elsewhere so to the powers that be feel free to move it if needed.
For context you need to know for the last week I have been locked in a battle of wits and skill with a mouse who has decided my home is his.
Being that I don't want to kill a living thing I figured it would be like catching the little Shrews that would enter my Grandparent's home when I was a kid. Not that big a deal... Right?
Read on to see just how wrong I was. Mind you this story takes place after a week of unsuccessfully trying to capture this little guy.
I was right the mouse is mocking me.
I have decided to name him since he is sharing my space, after all I can't just yell "Effing MOUSE!" at him and expect him to respond right?
So yesterday, Husband and I were watching the Olympics thinking about what we wanted for dinner when from the corner of my eye I see him, Mickey, darting across the living room cruising like a supercharged locomotive towards the kitchen. I had had the foresight (read brilliant idea) to block the path between the two rooms with a cardboard box.
He sees this, and runs under the sofa. Husband jumps up onto his chair and lets out a scream that would make a four year old girl blush and he is clutching the handle of the boom like it is going to save his life.
"This is it! I've got you now Mickey" I say loud enough for him (Mickey) to hear me. Hubby gives me a look that I took to mean 'My wife has finally lost what was left of her mind.' I know where he is and he is not getting away from me this time. I grab the fish water jug and shoot husband a look that should make his man bits shrivel up with shame and proceed with an act that at the time seemed brilliant!
In hindsight, it was an act of sheer "brilliant" stupidity! I grab the edge of the sofa and lift. Our sofa while not very big is very heavy due to the full size hide-a-bed in it. I'm not a big person at just five feet tall I lack upper body strength of any sort... so you can see where this is going! But wait!!!! It gets worse!
That's right Mickey is not there! I know he ran under there, and now it is not enough to mock me now you have to start with the magic tricks too?
I'm mad, husband is useless and I no longer have any sense of "common sense" I flip the sofa over, all 300-400 lbs of, it just BLOOP. Where did he go? The husband finally gets off the chair, probably a good thing because it is a cheap cardboard folding chair from Wallyworld... On his face is a look that can only be described as dumbfounded, perhaps confuzzelment.
I look closer at the mess I have just made and realize he could only have gone one place. UP! Mickey is in my sofa frame. Oh frick!!! and Yuck!
I send the husband to grab me some supplies, "I need expanding foam, my vintage 1986 AquaNet Hair spray," you know the kind that leaves a thick choking cloud when sprayed. I'm barking orders for items like a three star general to a platoon of plebes. He resents me for this, I don't care this ends NOW! Mickey is being evicted.
"Aluminum foil, broom, pitcher, hair spray, expanding foam, shoes, peanut butter jar, stapler, towel, material from the pile of fabric in the closet, hammer and nails; NOW!!!!!!!!!!!"
I wait, I'm sitting there on the towel waiting... At last a nose! I see you Mickey I think to myself. I have hubby start pounding on the side of the sofa, I'll chase him out. I think. He does not emerge, hubby stops saying his hand hurts..."WUSS!"
I wait some more, Mickey noses out and I try to trap his head under the dustpan. No dice. It is time for the big gun. "Hair spray! I'll smoke and choke him out!" I spray until I myself can't breath... I wait, figuring he will have to come out now... That's when I see him, on the other side of the sofa frame! How did he get there I wonder? I looked, there were no places where the two connect that I can't see. Ok, fine, "it's time to get down and dirty buster!" I have hubby remove the cushions and extend the bed as far as it will go in this position. "Try that again Mickey I dare you!" I say laughing maniacally. More hair spray this time where he was last spotted opposite the still hanging cloud where I had started. Hubby resumes banging the side, adding shaking the frame for good measure.
NOTHING!
"Are you kidding me Mickey? Did you find a Mouse sized gas mask somewhere?" Ok, fine, I can't scare him out, I can't shake him out and I can't smoke him out. I'll fix his little red wagon! I tell myself.
"Hand me the material! Hold this end here." I grab the stapler and begin the process of closing off his vertical escape route. "Foam and foil" I demand. I cut and measure the foil and make a box that he can't get out of, without my hearing him. I use the foam like glue making my attachments where I need them. I placed the peanut butter jar just out of Mickey's safe reach and fan the odor in his direction. Waiting, waiting...
Nothing. By now I've spent four hours on this project. My head hurts, I can't breath because my lungs are full of Aquanet and my hand is covered in copious amounts of sticky foam glue.
I staple the remainder of the material around the bottom of the sofa, leaving only a small Mickey sized opening lined with foil. When he leaves we will hear him, and I can place the last nail over his hiding place. MAHAHAHHAHAHA! I roll the sofa over after running the vacuum, my back hurts. Perfect Just perfect! I think to myself.
I hear crinkling and watch, no Mickey, I can hear him, but he has not left the safety of the sofa yet. I need medication for my back, it hurts. I take my meds, shower and lay down on Mickey's hiding spot content that at least I have solved one of my problems with him.
Husband lets out a scream a few hours later. Mickey has been spotted. Time for me to work again. I lift the sofa to place the final nail and lay down again. I have no strength left. "Mickey, prepare for round two tomorrow." I tell him as fatigue overcomes me and I wait for the sweet release of sleep that my drugs are sure to provide, along with powerful nausea. However, I'll take the upset tummy over the fire in my spine any day of the week!
Hubby, just as I start to fall asleep decides to tell me how stupid it was to "move the sofa like that." "One of us has to be the man, obviously it is not you!" I bark at him harsher than I mean to, but meaning every last venom laced word of it.
To be continued...
I hate to say it, but MICKEY won that round.
For some reason the spacing is all wonky and I can't seem to fix it sorry.
For context you need to know for the last week I have been locked in a battle of wits and skill with a mouse who has decided my home is his.
Being that I don't want to kill a living thing I figured it would be like catching the little Shrews that would enter my Grandparent's home when I was a kid. Not that big a deal... Right?
Read on to see just how wrong I was. Mind you this story takes place after a week of unsuccessfully trying to capture this little guy.
I was right the mouse is mocking me.
I have decided to name him since he is sharing my space, after all I can't just yell "Effing MOUSE!" at him and expect him to respond right?
So yesterday, Husband and I were watching the Olympics thinking about what we wanted for dinner when from the corner of my eye I see him, Mickey, darting across the living room cruising like a supercharged locomotive towards the kitchen. I had had the foresight (read brilliant idea) to block the path between the two rooms with a cardboard box.
He sees this, and runs under the sofa. Husband jumps up onto his chair and lets out a scream that would make a four year old girl blush and he is clutching the handle of the boom like it is going to save his life.
"This is it! I've got you now Mickey" I say loud enough for him (Mickey) to hear me. Hubby gives me a look that I took to mean 'My wife has finally lost what was left of her mind.' I know where he is and he is not getting away from me this time. I grab the fish water jug and shoot husband a look that should make his man bits shrivel up with shame and proceed with an act that at the time seemed brilliant!
In hindsight, it was an act of sheer "brilliant" stupidity! I grab the edge of the sofa and lift. Our sofa while not very big is very heavy due to the full size hide-a-bed in it. I'm not a big person at just five feet tall I lack upper body strength of any sort... so you can see where this is going! But wait!!!! It gets worse!
That's right Mickey is not there! I know he ran under there, and now it is not enough to mock me now you have to start with the magic tricks too?
I'm mad, husband is useless and I no longer have any sense of "common sense" I flip the sofa over, all 300-400 lbs of, it just BLOOP. Where did he go? The husband finally gets off the chair, probably a good thing because it is a cheap cardboard folding chair from Wallyworld... On his face is a look that can only be described as dumbfounded, perhaps confuzzelment.
I look closer at the mess I have just made and realize he could only have gone one place. UP! Mickey is in my sofa frame. Oh frick!!! and Yuck!
I send the husband to grab me some supplies, "I need expanding foam, my vintage 1986 AquaNet Hair spray," you know the kind that leaves a thick choking cloud when sprayed. I'm barking orders for items like a three star general to a platoon of plebes. He resents me for this, I don't care this ends NOW! Mickey is being evicted.
"Aluminum foil, broom, pitcher, hair spray, expanding foam, shoes, peanut butter jar, stapler, towel, material from the pile of fabric in the closet, hammer and nails; NOW!!!!!!!!!!!"
I wait, I'm sitting there on the towel waiting... At last a nose! I see you Mickey I think to myself. I have hubby start pounding on the side of the sofa, I'll chase him out. I think. He does not emerge, hubby stops saying his hand hurts..."WUSS!"
I wait some more, Mickey noses out and I try to trap his head under the dustpan. No dice. It is time for the big gun. "Hair spray! I'll smoke and choke him out!" I spray until I myself can't breath... I wait, figuring he will have to come out now... That's when I see him, on the other side of the sofa frame! How did he get there I wonder? I looked, there were no places where the two connect that I can't see. Ok, fine, "it's time to get down and dirty buster!" I have hubby remove the cushions and extend the bed as far as it will go in this position. "Try that again Mickey I dare you!" I say laughing maniacally. More hair spray this time where he was last spotted opposite the still hanging cloud where I had started. Hubby resumes banging the side, adding shaking the frame for good measure.
NOTHING!
"Are you kidding me Mickey? Did you find a Mouse sized gas mask somewhere?" Ok, fine, I can't scare him out, I can't shake him out and I can't smoke him out. I'll fix his little red wagon! I tell myself.
"Hand me the material! Hold this end here." I grab the stapler and begin the process of closing off his vertical escape route. "Foam and foil" I demand. I cut and measure the foil and make a box that he can't get out of, without my hearing him. I use the foam like glue making my attachments where I need them. I placed the peanut butter jar just out of Mickey's safe reach and fan the odor in his direction. Waiting, waiting...
Nothing. By now I've spent four hours on this project. My head hurts, I can't breath because my lungs are full of Aquanet and my hand is covered in copious amounts of sticky foam glue.
I staple the remainder of the material around the bottom of the sofa, leaving only a small Mickey sized opening lined with foil. When he leaves we will hear him, and I can place the last nail over his hiding place. MAHAHAHHAHAHA! I roll the sofa over after running the vacuum, my back hurts. Perfect Just perfect! I think to myself.
I hear crinkling and watch, no Mickey, I can hear him, but he has not left the safety of the sofa yet. I need medication for my back, it hurts. I take my meds, shower and lay down on Mickey's hiding spot content that at least I have solved one of my problems with him.
Husband lets out a scream a few hours later. Mickey has been spotted. Time for me to work again. I lift the sofa to place the final nail and lay down again. I have no strength left. "Mickey, prepare for round two tomorrow." I tell him as fatigue overcomes me and I wait for the sweet release of sleep that my drugs are sure to provide, along with powerful nausea. However, I'll take the upset tummy over the fire in my spine any day of the week!
Hubby, just as I start to fall asleep decides to tell me how stupid it was to "move the sofa like that." "One of us has to be the man, obviously it is not you!" I bark at him harsher than I mean to, but meaning every last venom laced word of it.
To be continued...
I hate to say it, but MICKEY won that round.
For some reason the spacing is all wonky and I can't seem to fix it sorry.
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