I'm deadly with a candle

For the last few months, my husband and I have been hunting a mouse that found its way into our house. I’m more than a little paranoid about cleanliness and have a slight obsession with anti-bacterial products, so knowing there was a rodent hiding somewhere in my house has nearly driven me insane. With our house at the base of the mountain, and an open lot next to our house, we sometimes see mice around. They’ve gotten into my garage before – which I’m not fond of, but can deal with. But, needless to say, the house is a whole other story.

This mouse tried to be friendly. At night or at nap time the mouse would sneak out to inspect the quiet house. I’d sometimes see him scurry into the living room and stare at me with curiosity. If I didn’t hate him so much, I might have thought it cute.

Since we’d dealt with mice in the garage before, we had previously considered ourselves prepared. Cris set a dozen mouse traps, but after a week, they remained empty. I grew impatient and bought another kind of trap. Then, we broke out the poisons. When those went untouched, we went to the store and bought one of every kind of mouse killer they had. Still no luck. I only mention these details so you understand my state of mind last night when Mr. Mouse came for another visit.

After McKenzie and Cris were asleep, Mr. Mouse came to visit Allison and I. I cursed at him and shooed him from the room. But, he came right back, unafraid. That ticked me off a little, so I put Allison to sleep in her crib and came back to the living room. I grabbed a bucket I thought I could trap him with and went back to my post. Sure enough he came for another visit. It wasn’t close enough for me to capture him, but close enough to drive me nuts. I scanned the end table near me for ammunition and had the option of: a phone, the remote control and a candle. I knew that if the remote or the phone touched the creature I could never use them again (no amount of disinfectant can kill mouse cooties, you know) so I settled on the candle. Carefully I slid over, picked it up, and hucked it at the mouse. It was probably a stupid idea, but I was mad, frustrated and tired. Not a good combination. But you know what? It worked! Mr. Mouse is no longer living. I woke up Cris afterward: partly to brag, partly to celebrate, but mostly because I needed him to dispose of the body.