I have mice. Not just a couple. No, Internet. I think I have a colony of mice. They're throwing parties in the walls and ceiling. I hear them rolling their little mice-kegs across the ceiling at varying times of the day and night. I see the reminants of their strolling on my counter-tops, and I'm not happy, Internet. NOT. AT. ALL.
It started a month or so ago when I heard the beginnings of the house party. Let's say it was the cocktail portion. I had friends over for dinner and one girlfriend so nonchalantly said, "oh! I see your little mousy!" And there he was, just sitting on the counter, staring right back at us with his big ears and all. I thought, that's fine, I can live with the mice. I mean, I live in the country surrounded by fields..it's inevitable. I'll be like Snow White and Cinderella, I'll live happily with them, maybe even sing some songs every now and again with them perfoming as back-up while I scrub the floors on my hands and knees. But no! You...you little mice...had to go and chew the shit out of my cabinet. Then continue to eat my grits and the container that held them. You little southern bastards. Then I noticed the holes in my ceiling...holeS, people! 5 holes the drunken southern big-earred bastards chewed into my ceiling. That was the last straw. This vegetarian-animal-loving-northerner is GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS, LITTLE MOUSY. THIS IS WAR.
I bought Decon and loved every minute of it. (Bite me, PETA. You deal with the little mice-shit all over your counter. I'm counteracting it by being a vegetarian and using cruelty-free products...I'm not animated by Disney.) I put the little boxes around my house, out of reach of Took. One was completely emptied and another had been eaten a little. Finally, the shitters were gone.
Or so I thought. Tuesday night I was fixing something to eat when one ran across the floor. Took just looked at me funny when I screamed like a little girl. The mice are still partying with their pot of grits and mice-kegs on scraps of my ceiling.
I should have known from all the years I spent in the South when they said the South would rise again. Internet, it has risen. And it's in the form of grit-loving-little-shitting-bastard mice. Beware!