More About the Mice

it was suggested I borrow a good mouser. It was suggested I NOT since, well, mousers leave behind: dead mushy wet MICE. And I do not like mice.
Either way, let me clarify: I KNOW the perils of a mouser. Oh, do I know them.
We tend to get 1-2 mice every fall. My cat WAS a mouser. Before he got to be 13 and infinately cranky.
I know all about mice eaten and then coughed up like hairballs at the bathroom doorway. I was very very heavy with child (aren’t I always? It was Trew that time). I got up. To pee. Again. On my way into the bathroom I stepped in cat-yak. Nice. I lifted my foot, there stuck to my sock (oh thank the gods it was winter and I had on socks) was….. a mouse face. Oh yes, face-of-mouse on my foot. Protruding nose and all.
I don’t “do” dead and so from the age of 2 my eldest son (who at the time could not speak and barely fed himself) understood “throw it away” and cleaned up the kitty-deposits. He even flushed his own fish at the tender age of three. I am truly a bad mom no?
There were mice in the closet once... um I think... anyway I HEARD them (and that makes them real RIGHT?) So I heard them, just the tiniest squeaking. But I do not like mice. So I sat bolt upright. Heart racing. Sweating. I was pregnant (thats a shock eh? It was Lochlan that time) What should I do? RUN! But ohhh theres my almost 2 year old beside me in the bed. I shouldn't wake him. But I can't feed him to the mice can I? No no that won't do. Pondering the dilemma I peer over the side of the bed. At this point I am SURE I actually SAW a furball rush past and into the closet. The tiny squeaking stopped. As a nursing mom I concluded that the noise HAD to be a baby and the hairball HAD to be real and the mama mouse. She must have nursed her baby and that's what made it quiet.
Well, there went all my options. I mean I HAD to leave the room now right? Yes well, but not by walking on the FLOOR. No. Because MICE walk there dontcha know. Right so. clearly, thats out of the question. This leaves walking along the nightstand and jumping to safety. Yes, well, you see my nightstand is untouched by the likes of FlyLady. What I mean is, like all other flat surfaces in this house its piled high with books and papers and lego bits and a lost sock and... you get the picture. So I had to scoop up Trew and walk on the 2” of unused nightstand space, while carrying a sleeping baby and then LEAP as far as I could and RUN to the livingroom. Or waddle fast, which is what I tend to do in the latter half of my pregnancies. Then I snatched the cat and tossed him into my bedroom and slammed the door and wedged a towel under it.
Chris thought THAT was a tad extreme too. Really. Are there other ways to deal with a mouse in the house? I think not.
I think I am exponentially Unlucky in micey matters