The simple plans of mice and Bone

Sunday night brought an unexpected visitor to casa de Bone. I was downstairs on the couch when I spotted it out of the corner of my eye darting in front of the staircase.

A mouse! In my house. Eww!

After an involuntary full-body shiver, I went over to investigate. At which point, it ran back behind the entertainment center and presumably into the utility room. And there's no hope of finding it in there because, well, you could lose a small child in there.

After another full-body shiver, I pondered my next move. I didn't have any mouse traps or other rodent-inhibiting devices. In all my years of living on my own, this is the first mouse I've had. It was like 11:30 so I wasn't really up for a Wal-Mart trip at that point. Besides, I figured why pay $2.49 for something I should be able to do myself.

Well, it turns out that virtually all my knowledge of mice comes from Tom & Jerry cartoons, so I decided to pay my good friend Google a visit. Using what I learned spending a couple of minutes on there along with knowledge gleaned from years of watching MacGyver reruns, I began to construct my very own mouse trap.

My crude-but-efficient homemade trap consisted of some cardboard, a small bucket, an empty toilet paper dispenser, and a shelf I had left over after I put my DVD case together a few months ago. I have debated whether or not to share a picture of my invention with you here, as I've yet to file a patent application. With that in mind, I would just ask that you use great discretion as I unveil for the first time in the history of blogging, a photograph of my homemade rodent capturing mechanism.

Behold, a mouse's worst nightmare:



Not bad, eh? (This is where I pause a few seconds with a proud, cheesy grin on my face to allow you to admire my handywork.) I mean, what rodent brain could outwit this marvel of human ingenuity and resourcefulness?

Since I am fairly certain most of you have never seen anything like this before, let me explain how it works. Ideally, the mouse will run up the black piece of wood to the first step, then up the cardboard to the second step. It will a then enter the toilet roll dispenser on the left side to reach the a piece of delicious feta cheese which I have strategically placed on the right side. (Do mice like feta? That's all I had.) However, little does the mouse know that I have left the dispenser teetering on the edge of the stairs so that the weight of the mouse will cause it to go tumbling into the bucket. And down will come mouse, feta and all.

And so, the trap was set. I retired upstairs to my bedroom, barely able to sleep knowing the rodent was scurrying around, but at least it was downstairs. Wait, mice can't climb stairs can they? Don't answer that.

Monday morning, I hurried downstairs with great anticipation, fully expecting to find the trap sprung and my mouse problem solved. Unfortunately, it was just as I left it. Disappointed but not defeated, I left it in place and hoped that maybe something would happen while I was at work.

No dice... or mice, as the case may be. (I think the main problem is that there were no MacGyvers where he had to catch a mouse.)

Unable to stand the thought of sleeping another night in my rodent-infested abode, I broke down and journeyed to Wal-Mart. I purchased some kind of twist-and-set traps that enclose the mouse so you don't have to see it, and also some of those sticky pads.

I set one of the traps in the utility room and placed four of the sticky pads in various hot spots I thought a mouse might go. (That got me to thinking about prepositions because a teacher once told me a preposition is anywhere a mouse can go. So I lost a few minutes there. But I digress.) That was Monday. This is Wednesday. Still no mouse.

So the commercial traps didn't work. The homemade trap didn't work. Or did it? Because while I haven't caught the mouse yet, I also have not seen the mouse again.

Here's what I'm thinking. (You may want to sit down for this.) Do you remember that anti-theft device for cars, it was called The Club or something? And in the ad, it said when theives see The Club, they move on to another car.

Well my friends, that's exactly what I think has happened here. I think that mouse came out of its hole Sunday night, saw this intimidating yet magnificent contraption, and said, "(Expletive) this (expletive), I'm going to another house!"

I have just invented The Club, for mice. The ultimate rodent-deterring device.

At least I hope that's what I've done. Otherwise, my next option may be to don some pied clothing and start playing a horn.

"Come on, babe, can't you see? I'm the Pied Piper. Trust in me. I'm the Pied Piper. And I'll show you where it's at..."