Thursday

If I wanted to live in Animal Kingdom, I would have moved to Disney.

When we were looking for this house, there was talk of things that live in old houses. Like mice, and spiders and the like. But I was assured, you see, that these things live outside, and that our dogs would alert us to the presence of anything else.

I was lied to.

It started, you see, with the bat. On the day of closing, our realtor asked "Any bats in the attic?" and we were told the cute story of how the previous owners paid an unsightly amount of money to completely bat-proof the house, and that we would own "The Only House in the Historic District that was Bat-Free." Guess what we had in our hallway 3 days after we moved in? Oh yes, one bat, flying up and down our hallway. We took care of it, and I will tell you that Google is a mighty force when dealing with bat removal. (I will also tell you that if you're having to Google such things while in process, you are certainly not qualified to handle the problem. Especially at 3am.)

Next came the lizards, which apparently think my back sidewalk is Club Med, and don't incredibly bother me until children attempt to catch them and bring them inside. (No, I am not that cool Mom that allows for reptile tanks. I am the Mom standing on a stool screaming.)

After that came the largest set of spiders I've ever seen, who I think are responsible for the disappearance of our neighbor's cat. But I'm learning to levitate, so I can deal with them being around. I just won't walk on those floors any more.

But now, you see, we have met our match. Mice. Or really, really talented tortilla chips that hurl themselves out of the bag and onto the counter tops. You pick, but I have my suspicions. These mice, you see, are not subtle, even in the wake of my husband trapping one of them. Oh yes, they roam in packs, apparently, like a street gang, holding my snack cabinet hostage. I now feel compelled to announce my presence when I go into the kitchen, lest I interrupt their frolicking.

And the dogs? Clueless. They can alert me to the presence of the ever-dangerous mailman, but things I actually want protecting from? Not a peep. They are the most worthless watch dogs ever created.

So for now, we'll be eating out, and I'll be learning to levitate. I'm pretty sure This Old House never had episodes like this.

1 comment:

April said...

Susan, I have mice and they are truly disgusting. One day they chewed a hole in my honey bear.. I was ticked. I have, however, found that they do not like the smell of peppermint. I have bought some peppermint essential oil and put 3-5 drops on a cotton ball and stuck it in my cabinets and it has helped them stay out of there. Of course I still have them running around every once in awhile, but I have my sticky traps out to catch those dirty things.