Of Mice and Mothers

There is one thing a mother should never have to see, and that is a pet rodent in a trap. Thankfully, my eyes deceived me, and it was not our precious Ivory Halftail in the trap, but a little white-bellied grey mouse. Four of the little dear (or maybe deer?) mice have been caught...our highest count ever. Alas, there is at least one more on the run...across the living room, down on the stove, behind the stove, across the counter, down the stairs. It is elusive.

Speaking of dears, my children were doing the dishes, and I told them they could save the pans and stoneware for me, so they graciously obliged. I washed one muffin tin and left it to dry and then reached for the other one that was sitting on top of the bar pan (from our pizza), and yes, you guessed it, there was the elusive mouse. It was a bit startled, but it looked at me for a moment like, "Why are you disturbing me?" and then took off behind the stove again. I couldn't help but wonder if he had a little motorcycle stashed somewhere. He seemed like he wanted to talk. Now that we've become such friends, it's a shame to think that he might get caught, but this just isn't going to fly. Maybe he could bunk with the skink.