It had been a long day for both Steve and I, and we were relaxing--he, doing a puzzle, and me, lying on my side, watching a TV show. We were about ready for bed, when out of the corner of my eye I noticed something moving and glanced up just in time to see a mouse run behind our entertainment center.
I gasped and sat up: "I just saw a mouse!"
"What? Where?" Steve immediately pushed pause on our show, and I pointed.
"It ran behind the entertainment center!"
We both got up, turned off the TV, and stood at the side of our entertainment unit. Gripping the sides, we moved it carefully away from the wall.
My first thought was that it had obviously been a while since I'd cleaned behind there--having two dogs tended to mean a LOT of dog hair in the house, and although I did my best to keep the main living areas clean, apparently most of the shedding dog hair had ended up back here, along with Steve's stethoscope, a couple of children's board books, and some random bits of paper that had obviously fallen off the top shelves and not been missed.
I keep dancing around in my bare feet, certain that at any moment a mouse would come running out, directly over my toes, and Steve started moving the other side of the unit cautiously as I stood behind him, terrified about what horrors were in store.
Nothing.
I began thinking, "Maybe I'm just crazy and imagining things..." when I noticed that the dog hair seemed to be--gathered. "Does that look like a nest to you?" I asked Steve, pointing at the largest clump of dog hair.
"Dunno," he shrugged (at this point I'm sure he was just trying to humor his obviously hallucinating pregnant wife). But, like a good husband, he went to get the broom.
He came back, reached around me, and swept the mass of dog hair towards us. As he did so, I started noticing something coming up out of the dog hair--were those bugs? And then I realized--those were BABY MICE. As in hairless, tiny, pink, wriggling BABY MICE living in my FRONT ROOM.
And although I'm not a "shriek-er", I shrieked. "DO YOU SEE THOSE?!?!?!?!" I gently screamed into Steve's ear.
"What are you----Oh..." he leaned closer to look, then jumped back.
"That's a nest. And those are baby mice in the nest!!" I leaned closer, although shuddering, and Steve clutched the broom even harder and moved them into the light where we could see them better.
I kept squealing and shuddering, and Steve (with some help for me, I'm not totally useless) swept up the entirety of the mice nest (including all of the obviously newborn babies--yes, we're heartless) and took them straight out to the outside trash. I went and grabbed a trash bag and started attacking the back of the entertainment center with the broom, determined to GET EVERYTHING GONE.
Steve came back, stopped me, and grabbed some gloves. "You're pregnant, and we have no idea what diseases could be back there," he reminded me, and I stepped back and tried to be content with holding the bag while my knight in shining armor (or just basketball shorts and a T-shirt) cleaned up the rest of the mess back there.
I kept close watch, and although that had most definitely been a mouse nest filled with approximately 8 or so baby mice (we didn't dig through or count with any kind of specificity), there was no other sign of mice back there--no mouse droppings, no chewed up papers, nothing.
"Maybe the pregnant mother just came in to have her babies but hasn't been living here?" I asked hopefully, as Steve dumped half a gallon of bleach onto the now-dog-hair-free area and grabbed the mop.
"Hopefully," he shrugged in response. "But either way, we're definitely putting traps or poison or something back there."
Luckily, we had some leftover mouse poison from a similar infestation in our garage, so we put a big chunk where no curious child could possibly reach it without moving some very heavy furniture out of the way, and since then, other than a possible scrabbling sound behind my fridge at one point, there have been no signs of Momma Mouse (trust me. I check the poison chunk obsessively).
But don't be fooled--the next day I was moving couches and sweeping, mopping, and disinfecting under every other piece of furniture I could possibly justify moving by myself while Steve was at work.
On the bright side, my front room is now truly deep cleaned!
I gasped and sat up: "I just saw a mouse!"
"What? Where?" Steve immediately pushed pause on our show, and I pointed.
"It ran behind the entertainment center!"
We both got up, turned off the TV, and stood at the side of our entertainment unit. Gripping the sides, we moved it carefully away from the wall.
My first thought was that it had obviously been a while since I'd cleaned behind there--having two dogs tended to mean a LOT of dog hair in the house, and although I did my best to keep the main living areas clean, apparently most of the shedding dog hair had ended up back here, along with Steve's stethoscope, a couple of children's board books, and some random bits of paper that had obviously fallen off the top shelves and not been missed.
I keep dancing around in my bare feet, certain that at any moment a mouse would come running out, directly over my toes, and Steve started moving the other side of the unit cautiously as I stood behind him, terrified about what horrors were in store.
Nothing.
I began thinking, "Maybe I'm just crazy and imagining things..." when I noticed that the dog hair seemed to be--gathered. "Does that look like a nest to you?" I asked Steve, pointing at the largest clump of dog hair.
"Dunno," he shrugged (at this point I'm sure he was just trying to humor his obviously hallucinating pregnant wife). But, like a good husband, he went to get the broom.
He came back, reached around me, and swept the mass of dog hair towards us. As he did so, I started noticing something coming up out of the dog hair--were those bugs? And then I realized--those were BABY MICE. As in hairless, tiny, pink, wriggling BABY MICE living in my FRONT ROOM.
And although I'm not a "shriek-er", I shrieked. "DO YOU SEE THOSE?!?!?!?!" I gently screamed into Steve's ear.
"What are you----Oh..." he leaned closer to look, then jumped back.
"That's a nest. And those are baby mice in the nest!!" I leaned closer, although shuddering, and Steve clutched the broom even harder and moved them into the light where we could see them better.
I kept squealing and shuddering, and Steve (with some help for me, I'm not totally useless) swept up the entirety of the mice nest (including all of the obviously newborn babies--yes, we're heartless) and took them straight out to the outside trash. I went and grabbed a trash bag and started attacking the back of the entertainment center with the broom, determined to GET EVERYTHING GONE.
Steve came back, stopped me, and grabbed some gloves. "You're pregnant, and we have no idea what diseases could be back there," he reminded me, and I stepped back and tried to be content with holding the bag while my knight in shining armor (or just basketball shorts and a T-shirt) cleaned up the rest of the mess back there.
I kept close watch, and although that had most definitely been a mouse nest filled with approximately 8 or so baby mice (we didn't dig through or count with any kind of specificity), there was no other sign of mice back there--no mouse droppings, no chewed up papers, nothing.
"Maybe the pregnant mother just came in to have her babies but hasn't been living here?" I asked hopefully, as Steve dumped half a gallon of bleach onto the now-dog-hair-free area and grabbed the mop.
"Hopefully," he shrugged in response. "But either way, we're definitely putting traps or poison or something back there."
Luckily, we had some leftover mouse poison from a similar infestation in our garage, so we put a big chunk where no curious child could possibly reach it without moving some very heavy furniture out of the way, and since then, other than a possible scrabbling sound behind my fridge at one point, there have been no signs of Momma Mouse (trust me. I check the poison chunk obsessively).
But don't be fooled--the next day I was moving couches and sweeping, mopping, and disinfecting under every other piece of furniture I could possibly justify moving by myself while Steve was at work.
On the bright side, my front room is now truly deep cleaned!
Update: we found Momma Mouse. Apparently she partook of the poison I set out, because she is no longer what you might call "living." Once again, my knight in shining armor (this time, wearing scrubs) took care of her disposal so I wouldn't have to.
Update completed-you may now resume your regularly scheduled programming.
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