I first saw it about two weeks ago. He was trying to eat through the plastic cap on my bottle of vegetable oil. Gross. I threw the oil out and decided that I would not eat at home for a while, thus starving the mouse out of my house. After not seeing my little friend for almost a week I had decided I was mouse free.
Not so.
On Friday night as I was packing for a trip to the Caribbean, I spotted the mouse in my living room. He was crawling around trying to get onto my bookshelves. I have no food on my shelves so I'm not sure what he was after, maybe he wanted to read the latest Chelsea Handler novel?
Anyway, I chased him back into the kitchen where he narrowly escaped my rubber rain boot as he effortlessly slipped under the fridge.
I was frustrated but couldn't do anything about it since I was getting up to catch a bus at 6 am on Saturday. My only line of defense was to leave the house spotless and again hope I would starve him out of my house and into my neighbor's. To me, this seemed like a brilliant plan.
Wrong.
I got back yesterday and found mouse droppings in the kitchen. So today, sorry animal lovers, I decided it's time to pull out all the stops.
I went to Gonzalo, my landlord who we normally lovingly refer to as Manana due to his slow response time. This time, however, Gonzo surprised me. He came back within minutes with a very Medieval looking mousetrap. I supplied the cheese, and, after tasting it, Gonzalo set the trap.
And now, we wait.
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