eek.

Originally published at American Family. Please leave any comments there.

Last weekend, Mr. A swore he heard a mouse in our kitchen. 

Because we live on a kind of wooded lot, this is not that surprising.  We usually get a few mice each fall, but every once in a while one of the greedy little bastards will sneak in during other parts of the year.

I still wasn’t convinced we had a mouse, but I told Mr. A to set up the traps anyway.  Then yesterday, the trap was sprung with no dead mouse in sight.  By that point, I was a believer.  Last night we set the trap again.

This morning, as I was lying in bed, I heard Mr. A scream “NOooooooooooooooo!”  followed by a terrified cry from L.  

I grabbed my glasses and ran downstairs.

By the time I got there, Mr. A was frantically scrubbing L’s hands in the bathroom sink.

“What the heck is going on?” I asked.

“She…was……..holding the mouse!!!” Mr. A said with a shudder.

Apparently, the mouse had dragged the trap out from under the counter before it died.  Then L found it and walked up to Mr. A.  She was squeezing the actual dead mouse in her hand. 

Both Mr. A and I were thoroughly grossed out. 

I hope that was the only one.