Our townhouse complex is still being completed. Brand new homes on the snobby hillside. Love the home, hate the location. It's far away from everything, within walking distance of pretty much nothing. Oh, and it's got mice.
Ah, the joys of "cottage living", the phrase coined by the builders themselves. Freaking mice. We noticed them a few months ago when our dishwasher suddenly started pouring water all over the kitchen floor. Appliance guy said a filthy mouse had chewed through the drainage hose. Eric bought one of those things that emits a high pitched noise that only rodents can hear to irritate them enough to bugger off. That worked, until this week.
Friday night, Eric and I were playing Monopoly in the living room, when I hear something rustling under the sink. I peeked in there, only to see a stinkin' mouse in the garbage can, desperately trying to jump its way to freedom. I trapped it with the bottom side of a baking pan and Eric took it outside and "disposed" of it. Ok, he shook the little guy to death, but he wanted to make sure it wasn't coming back.
15 minutes later, I heard rustling again, this time from Maya's Fisher Price kitchen. I checked the little oven and fridge, no mouse. Eric lifted the kitchen off the floor, and a foul little creature went darting towards the couch. Man, that mouse ran fast. I started to shriek, and then laughed at myself for shrieking, and then shrieked again as Eric lifted the couch up and the disgusting thing ran under the loveseat. The couch lift, mouse dart, shriek, laugh pattern continued for about five minutes as we tried to get it to run out of the sliding door.
Then Eric suggested that I turn on the vacuum. Unfortunately, we don't have built-in vac, so I was worried that our little vacuum wasn't big enough to kill a mouse like Mom did in Pokey the gerbil. But the noise sure helped scare the horrid little mouse into running. Lift, vacuum, dart, shriek, laugh, repeat. It took another 10 minutes to finally get it to run out the door to freedom. At last, we're mouse free.
Saturday night, after Maya was in bed, Eric and I headed downstairs to watch a little TV. We weren't down there five minutes before I saw a mouse run across the floor. WTF?! This is getting out of hand. Sunday afternoon we went to Canadian Tire and purchased a couple of mouse traps. We weren't sure which one to buy, until Eric read the back of one of the packages and saw that this particular model had a "killing bar". A killing bar. That would be a lot more useful than what we were doing before.
So I filled the trap with peanut butter and show Maya how they worked. After two demonstrations she started to cry because it scared her. Awful, I know, but I had to make sure she wouldn't touch it. It took two days, but the killing bar finally worked. Hopefully we're mouse free now. I reset the trap and put it back in place, just in case.
I did get a bit of a chuckle this morning when I saw an Orkin truck at the neighbour's house, two doors up. Looks like we're not the only ones with this problem. Filthy little f***ers.