I had some work done to my house recently and the builders had to keep the front and back doors open, while they were bringing materials in and out. This was done while I was at work so I was unperturbed.
This was all very good till I came home to reports that mice, at least two had taken advantage of this golden opportunity to enter my house. Anybody who knows me well knows that the first thing I try to do when a “problem” of any kind arises is to delegate it. That genuinely suits me fine, I always have more important things to do..
This time though the other person had a phobia and about mice. Not only that but he pointed out that there was one there on the floor. Fortunately readers, I was extremely brave and didn’t shriek or anything. We opened the back door and I charged in my mighty wheelchair towards it. It ran (just as well) in the hoped for direction and scurried out into the garden, probably doing just fine but I’d like to think it was ripped apart by one of the neighborly cats.
The battle was won but was the war?
The next day, a further mouse was reported on the kitchen counter behind a bag. Summoning all my strength I slowly entered the kitchen and tried to peer behind the bag all the time thinking it was going to jump onto my face for some nefarious reason.
But it was gone and hasn’t been seen since. But my nemesis does have good taste, it has managed to eat some of the cheese in the trap without it activating. But someday, it will.
Now here I am in the house. Just me and the mouse. Who will live and who will die? This is what it must have been like in the trenches in World War 1.
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