There are now four of us living in this house again* as a mouse has moved in this week. This is the second mouse in two weeks and we're having a harder time "evicting" this new resident than its predecessor. Yes, said predecessor died. No, it did not suffer. That I could not handle. It was a quick death thanks to the "dime-a-dozen" mouse trap that our neighbor gave us. I really hate it when little animals (any animals really) have to die, but I am okay with one less mouse. Just as long as it doesn't suffer and isn't left in a sort of pergatory between life and death - I honestly don't know how I could ever "do it in..."
Anyway, second mouse has moved in. So we set the trap with cheese and went to bed. (Sounds strikingly like a Tom & Jerry cartoon...) When we woke up, the cheese was gone but the trap had not gone off. Hmm. We did it again that day. Since Jackson and I were home, I figured not much would happen - we do make a lot of noise as we play and go about our business. But when he went down for a nap and I went down to fetch the laundry, the mouse took his opportunity to take his cheese again. And again, the trap did not go off.
Alright, this called for bringing out the big guns: peanut butter. Gooey, yummy, sticky, irresistible peanut butter that would take a long time to get off of the trap - a quick grab would not work in this case. We dabbed the peanuty goo on the trap and went to bed.
This is what we found when we came downstairs this morning:
A trap licked clean of peanut butter, but that had not gone off. After I took this photo, I tested the trap to make sure it works (it did, believe me, it did), so I have no idea how this little bugger got the peanut butter and spared his life at the same time.
Sigh. We'll try getting a new "dime-a-dozen" trap since this one is admittedly a little rusty, maybe it's just not sensistive enough? A live trap would be fine, but then we'd have to release it somewhere which is just silly..."here mouse, let me toss you outside so you can just come running right back in through one of your myriad of ways into our old house when I'm not looking..." We'll see what happens. Any ideas?
In other news, the Boy sprouted a new tooth! Here is a photo of the tooth, plus the photo-attempts:
"Nope, not gonna show you my tooth."
"I'd rather not show my tooth right now, Mom. I'm still working on it."
(With a little help from Daddy - he got him to smile from above, really...he's not just holding his jaw open!)
Hindsight sure is 20/20 when it comes to babies and teething. Once this erupted yesterday afternoon (Grama caught it erupting with a "feel" test on the gum before we could see it and by dinner it was white and out there), the cranky baby of the day prior made perfect sense. Sorry, Jackson! I guess I wasn't as clued in to this tooth as I was for your first one. Mommy promises to pay more attention next time...
How many teeth do we have left anyway? Something like 18? Yikes, it's going to be a long four months until the first birthday...
While doing housework today (he's a peach of a husband, really he is!), Dan discovered that Jackson doesn't actually hate the Baby Bjorn like we thought he did. I guess that was just the effect of the Minneapolis Farmer's Market on a busy Saturday in the spring (would you want to be facing out not knowing where your parents are as you are essentially pushed into a crowd of people carrying weird green things and bartering loudly?!).
A lovely discovery, really, since now housework will take on a whole new personality for both of us. Singing songs, lots of repetitive work (it's really funny to move the Swiffer back and forth and back and forth and back and forth...) may just make it happen more often. Don't be surprised if you see dustbunnies when you stop over for a visit though, we still prefer regular playtime with the Boy...way more fun for all.
(Yes, that is a baby gate in the background of the photo. No, it is not installed yet. Yes, we realize this is not safe and does no good to protect our son from the multiple dangers around our as-of-yet-still-unbabyproofed-home. He's moments away from crawling and we're gathering "supplies" - we're on the case!)
*Pre-Mouse Days, we numbered four in our household too, but poor Lucy left us this summer. That sad event happened pre-blog, otherwise there would have been an entire (lengthy) post devoted to her. We miss her dearly, my friend of twelve years, but will pay tribute to her on yogurt & granola with just a simple picture. RIP Lucy.
(Yes, Gentle Readers of yogurt & granola, I know it's easy to surmise that our mouse problem now is due to our lack of a good mouser-cat. But I am here to tell you that these stories are completely unrelated. You see, Lucy didn't know she was a cat. The last time I had a mouse at the old house, she simply sat on the couch and watched - with a bored look on her face - as I chased the mouse around the Christmas tree. She was a lover, not a mouser.)