There is a mouse in my house...

and his name's not Mickey! I went to put away some of Evan's snacks tonight in the pantry when I caught em' red handed...it still gives me the heebie jeebies just thinking about it! There is a mouse in my house-and no amount of ryhming can make this mouse-catastrophe cute! After promptly slamming the pantry door and jumping back a few feet with a scream, both my husband and mother in law came to the rescue. Of all the things I had in mind for Saturday night, mouse hunting was not at the top of the list.

Taken from my safe perch atop the counters...

Armed with a flashlight, a shoebox(and temporarily a kitchen knife), Chris started to slowly move things around in the pantry-nothing. Then, as he lowered himself to the floor and pointed the flashlight upwards-what would you know there was a not so little tail just dangling there between our pantry racks. In between our spices if you really want to know. Quickly the little mouse scurried away, down the shelves, across the kitchen floor and in the blink of an eye, he ran for safety under the stove. Rats!

After taking the bottom shelf out of the stove, thoroughly examining the surrounding cabinets and finally pulling the stove away from the wall-nothing! For now, he's narrowly escaped. Back to the pantry, we had to totally clean it out, and trash a good amount of groceries that we discovered had little holes in them or that we suspected he had been on...gross!!! Again, heebie jeebies from my fingertips to my toes. So what are we left with after the unsuccessful mouse hunt? A mess of a kitchen, trash bags of wasted food, a sink full of things to sanitize and.....
one mousetrap.