Mousehunter: a history

I've decided that I have to start keeping track of the various tools with which my husband has killed mice in our homes. When I say "tools", what I mean is "things that are closest to him when he sees the mouse."

I need to do this because someday he may ask, "where has all of the money I've made gone?" And I will answer, "to replace the items with which you have killed mice."

[An important note: I love my husband and his great intiative and willingness to kill all the mice that have entered our domains over the past 12 years. Although I frequently have to be the spotter/herder, I have very, very rarely had to come near the mice and for that I am thankful.]

I bring this up because just the other night he managed to stun and subsequently murder a very wiley small mole (which looks like a mouse but has very different behavior and patterns -- we are becoming experts) that had eluded all traps and was living a very nice life somewhere between my kitchen cabinents and the refrigerator. The kids were in bed, and I was finishing up the dishes while Eric was standing at the bar talking to me. He said those notorious words I hate to hear: "Don't move." (Should I mention here how I screamed and jumped toward him onto the bar immediately? No, I don't think I will.)

It had circled my feet by the kitchen sink. I'll let that sink in.

He graciously volunteered to finish the dishes, while I sat on a chair (with my feet up) and became the spotter. It didn't take long. I was unprepared for the quick return of the varmit, and thus Eric grabbed the nearest item: my LIBRARY book. He managed a very quick whap (which thankfully produced no liquid onto the book) and it lay there. Then -- of course -- he grabbed my TONGS from the utensil drawer and took the still-twitching critter outside to finish him off.

This is not a new event in our married life. We've lived now in two homes that seem to be a beacon for mice and their cousins, and Eric has no patience for mousetraps that are ineffective and serve only to feed the mice. He continues to set the traps, with a widening array of meals...er, lures, but many, many more have died simply by him spotting one, chasing it down and killing it with various household items.

Thus, my list (and these are only the ones I can remember):
-- frying pan (even he agreed we shouldn't eat out of it again)
-- toaster
-- bread box
-- various spatulas
-- photo album
-- shoes
-- and now, LIBRARY book (very ironically, titled "The Fugitive", about a man who shunned war and violence)

Donations to "Household Items Tainted by Mouse Remains Replacement Fund" accepted.