We have a Mouse in the House.
Say it like a DJ, now.
A Mouse is in the HOWZE
On the one hand, I'm disgusted. Because I found tiny mouse poopies on the counter.
On the other hand, under the cabinet where the toaster is has never been cleaner.
What to do.
I'm happy disposing of it humanly. Setting up a little mouse hotel. Waiting.
I'm actually completely happy living with one, to be honest. I like mice.
But they chew cords, and wires, and clothes, and quite possibly babies, so out the mouse must go.
I'm sorry Miss Bianca. I'm sorry Bernard. I'm sorry Speedy Gonzales. I'm sorry all Three Blind. I'm sorry Mickey (but not Minnie). I'm sorry Jerry, Mighty, Pixie and Dixie, I'm sorry Danger and Stuart Little. I'm so sorry to you all. Because Daddy is in charge of critter control. And this isn't going to end well.
Good luck to you tonight, mouse. I hear there's peanut butter waiting for you. Be strong. I'm sleeping with the fan on. I don't want to hear your tiny mouse screams.
My fantasy of how it will really happen:
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