My not-so-living NIGHTMARE!

Most people who know me know that I have one paralyzing fear. And I use "paralyzing" in very literal way.

Mice.

I know that very few people like them, I get that. But I can't move and go into hysterics just at the sight of an empty mouse trap.

Shortly after we moved into our house last year it occurred to me that our back yard borders a pretty large forest area and what do you find in forests? Squirrels and bunnies, yes. And we see plenty of those. But it was the fact that mice might abide there that bothered me.

I called pest control immediately (probably before we had our gas or electricity hooked up). They came and set these super poison trap thingies in the basement and come every couple of months to check on them. I usually ask about it and they usually tell me that there has been some "activity".

"Activity", I now realize, is a very nice way of saying that your house is completely infested. But in almost a year and a half I have seen nothing so I let my little brain assume that the pest controllers are liars and just after our money. But I make sure they keep coming anyway.

And then it happened. Last Tuesday I went to the basement to start some laundry and I saw IT.

A dead mouse. To say I freaked out would be one of the biggest understatements EVER. And it was dead. Had it been alive my heart might have actually stopped between beats. The way I reacted will for sure make my poor 4 year old seek therapy someday. But my husband saved the day by "taking care of it" and checking out the entire basement. Given a choice I would never go down there again but then we'd have to join a nudist colony seeing as how we wouldn't have any clothes.

There have been no other signs thus far but I still won't go to the basement before an intense investigation is performed or without a chaperon. Which reminds me-Richard already left for work and laundry needs to be done. Oh well, maybe tomorrow...