Last night we made a late night trip to the grocery (it wasn’t quite midnight, but close). When we got home J was in a hurry ’cause some game was on that he had to watch the end of, so that left me in charge of putting away the booty. He followed me in to the kitchen and dropped all the bags on the floor and dashed off to the TV.

I started to run some water for the few dishes in the sink. As I turned to start unpacking I saw Him out of the corner of my eye. I can’t even say I saw him, It was out of the corner of my eye and he was grease lightning fast, it was more like I saw the blur of fur that was him dash under the fridge.

“AHHHHHHH!!!”

J came running in the room, probably assuming I had hurt myself. I was just standing there pointing, mouth agape.

“What?”

” I saw… I think… I saw…” I wasn’t sure what I saw at this point, I can be a bit jumpy and I was tired, it could have been the reflection in my glasses.

“It was a mouse.” at this point the thought has me on my tippy toes.

Fear is racing through my veins, and doubt through my head… ” How could it be? We have lived here for five years and haven’t seen one. But the girls across the hall said they had one. But they are more nervous than me. And they keep their garbage in their kitchen till trash day, that’s why they would have a mouse. They practically invited it over. I bet it is their mouse.”

“Are you sure? A mouse.”

“Yeah, or the biggest spider I have ever seen, maybe I imagined it… No something is under there.” I am not crazy I saw it.

” Go watch your game, I will wait for him to come out”

kick. broom. sweep.

“no”

“um, I can do it”

Kick. At this point I am very concerned for the fridge, it is an innocent bystander.

It happens fast as grease lightning. Along the wall. A “huge” dark gray mouse. J is right behind him, punching him with the broom. I am am squealing and jumping from toe to toe.

The little guy is heading for our bedroom and the door is open. That’s it, we have to move, I can’t sleep with him in there. Nope, under the dirty clothes sorter in the hall.

“That was a mouse. Damn, it’s fast!”

“OH. MY. GOD. J. He is huge.” I am imagining the river rats from my childhood.

“It is normal sized. How did it get in?” You see, we live on the second floor. I doubt he came up the stairs and slipped in the door.

Remembering the girls across the hall I blame them. He must have come in through the cupboard from their apartment. J has a look of doubt. But that is all I can think of.

At this point we are standing guard on the hamper. We know he is under there he knows we are out here. J and I are worried with excited fear, he is probably trembling in the corner frightened for his life. And then it hits me… Are we going to kill him? Great, now I am even more upset. Way to go conscious.

J hands me the broom and tells me to close bedroom door. I follow his instructions and stand ready to get him. I must be brave.

J kicks the hamper.

“AHHHHHHH!”

Smack. broom. Behind the bookcase.

“Damn, how is it so fast?”

J quickly grabs a box and blocks one end. He is trapped. We got him. In retrospect I realize that this would have been a good time to grab a large can to capture him in, so we wouldn’t have to kill him. But terror had overcome me. All I could do was follow commands. Or maybe J should have taken the artillery, am not the person you want on your front line, my reaction time is terrible.

J shakes the bookcase. I wish we had a cat.

Here he comes.

bam. broom. bam.

He is gone. We know how he got in. The same way the centipedes do. Through the heat vent. He is gone. Unscathed.

We just stand there staring at the heat vent. I get on the floor and try to see him. He is gone.

“We have to block the vent so it can’t get back in.” J tells me to stand there and watch while he gets a towel to execute his plan(as if the mouse is going to come back for round two).

J also decides that we should spray bug spray around the vent, that’s how we keep the centipedes away, apparently J thinks mice don’t like it either and who am I to argue.

He goes back to his game. I start unpacking groceries.

“We should get some rat poison.”

The idea of owning rat poison makes me uneasy. I am not sure why, it just does. I guess that rat poison is simply too dangerous for my blood.

What if I am tired and add it to my coffee thinking it is sugar (you don’t use sugar in your coffee).

hmm

The mouse eats the poison and the cat downstairs catches the mouse, eats it and dies. Great, now we have a hypothetical cat blood on our hands.

The cat gets to him. J has a soft spot for kitties.

A mouse trap it is. This also makes me sad. But it is a cruel world and I can’t constantly be looking over my shoulder.

Here is the interesting thing about the mouse. We, two perfectly logical people, were scared witless every time we saw it. (I found myself worrying that he would run up my leg and bite me. Then I would have rabies or the bubonic plague. Thank you, Tom and Jerry.) I find this interesting because the mouse was obviously afraid, too (I am sure the last thing he wanted was to run up my leg). Why did we scream like school girls every time we saw it? “It is more afraid of you than you are of it.” That logic makes me wonder why he didn’t have a heart attack the moment he saw me, cause I almost did when I saw him.

Well lets hope I don’t have a heart attack if I see him again.