The Story of the Mouse in My Apartment

I'm so sorry, Mr. Mouse

Before we get started I need to confess that for most of my life I have made fun of my mother for her fear of mice.  I mean they’re small and furry and sort of cuddly, right?  I thought so too.  Then one was in my house. 

The story starts at around 7:30 last Saturday morning.  I had woken up early to study for an Art History exam I had to take at 10.  I’d been studying for about half an hour when Bo suddenly burst around the door and alerted me to the mouse that was en route to one of my bookcases.  I looked up in time to see it scurry and dart behind said bookcase.  I ran in to the kitchen to turn on more lights and watched the bookcase intently just to make sure I’d seen what I thought I saw.

I did.  The mouse stuck its head out, I said “ack!” and he ran back behind the bookshelf.  I then totally and completely lost my shit.  I jumped up on the kitchen counter and texted my friend Casey (he’s the guy I know who lives closest) to see if he was awake.  He didn't respond.  I called my dad.  

For those of you who may not know, I live about 3 hours away from my hometown.  AKA I live about three hours away from my dad.  I called him anyway.  At this point I’m crying uncontrollably.  Dad answers and promptly asks what’s wrong.  The conversation proceeds thusly:

Me: *Sobs* there is a mouse in my apartment!
Dad: A mouse?
Me: Yes! I woke up early to study and now there is a mouse.
Dad: Okay, it’s okay, where is the mouse now?
Me: He’s *sobs* behind the smaller bookshelf in the dining room.  *Yelp* He keeps poking his head out and scaring me.
Dad: Calm down, do you have any traps?
Me: No! I never thought I’d have a mouse in my apartment!
Dad: Okay, okay, you’re alright –
Me: *Squeal* He keeps poking out!
Dad: Kyley, it’s okay… I don’t have a lot going on today, I can come help you.
Me: Dad, you can’t drive to Indy to help me with a mouse.
Dad: You’d be surprised what I can do.
Me: No, no, that’s okay. I *sniff* I’m okay.  I just hate leaving it here to go take my test.
Dad: Go take your test, you’ll be fine.  You’re sure you don’t want me to come down?
Me: Okay, yeah, yeah I’m fine.

After assuring my dad that I was okay (I wasn't) and hanging up with him I called my sister.  Her phone went to voicemail.  I called her again.  She answered.  We chatted.

Nikita: *Groggily* Hello?
Me: N-n-nikita.
Nikita: *More awake now* What? What’s wrong?
Me: There’s – there’s a mouse in my apartment.
Nikita: There’s a mouse in your apartment?!
Me: Yes.  *Sniff* I need a judgment call.  If you lived alone and there was a mouse in your apartment and dad offered to come help you take care of it would you have him come?
Nikita: Well… If he offered.
Me: He did.  I just feel ridiculous.  This is what I get for waking up early to study.
Nikita: Are you dressed?
Me: No
Nikita: Have you showered?
Me: No. *squeak* (I made noises every time the little devil popped his head out)
Nikita: So what are you doing right now?
Me: Sitting Indian style on my kitchen counter.
Nikita: *Laughs* I see.  Well if our choices are having dad come and feeling a little silly for it or living the rest of your life on a counter I think we both know the answer.
Me: Okay *sniff*.  But I don’t want to get off the counter or stop watching him because as soon as I do he could be anywhere!  And when I leave he could REALLY be anywhere!
Nikita: I know, it sucks.  It’ll be alright though.
Me: Okay. Bye.

At this point I texted my dad and told him I would actually take him up on his offer.  He wished me luck on my exam and said he’d be on his way soon.  The mouse peeked out and I didn't make a noise.  He came all the way out and the logical part of my brain said, “aww, he’s sorta tiny and cute.”  Then he darted out and into the kitchen and under my fridge.  I 100% lost my cool again, yelled, and hopped off the counter to go get ready for my exam. 

I called my mom in the interim and she was all kinds of unhelpful.  She kept telling me terrible stories about mice and freaking me out even more.  In hindsight, mom might be evil.  I should look into that.

So then I went and took my exam.  I did not do as well on it as I would have sans mouse but c’est la vie.  Then I called my dad and found out he was about two hours out.  I decided that instead of going home I would go hide at my office.  I was absurdly jumpy and convinced that every noise was the vermin army coming to do me in.

After killing time at the office I headed home to meet my dad.  He came bearing traps and poison which we proceeded to set in strategic places around the apartment.  Then we got Italian food.  I sent Dad home that evening (we’d yet to catch the mouse) and braved the apartment on my own. I went to bed that night with pillows stuffed under the door in an effort to keep the mouse out of my room.

I awoke Sunday and went to check the traps.  No luck on the first one but when I glanced into the kitchen I saw that we had been successful in our endeavors.  The poor, misguided mouse had met its spring loaded end.  But the battle was not yet over.  I still had to dispose of the body. 

I brought the trashcan close and grabbed a set of tongs.  I had to give myself a pep talk which consisted of “you are a grown ass woman, pick up the mouse!”  I grabbed the trap with the tongs and lowered the entire thing into the garbage.  I proceeded to empty out the leftovers in my fridge and took the bag to the dumpster.  If I’m being honest, I still feel a little bad that the mouse had to die.  But apparently Kyley does not find mice cute when they are running free in her apartment.

So what’s the moral of the story?  I’m not totally sure.  If I had to guess though it would be that dads are great regardless of your age and you should never wake up early to study for an exam.