BY STAFF CONTRIBUTOR
One evening, my daughter, who was quite the rebel for her age and size, made a bold decision to sleep on the living room couch, declaring she had enough of her father and me. At first, I was upset because she seemed to be using me - she had been playing games on my phone before migrating to the living room with her trusty pink blanket. Despite my initial annoyance, I could not bear to leave her alone there for two main reasons: she was sick with the flu and coughing, and my house was infested with freeloading creatures - yes, mice had taken over!
You would think they would not venture up to the fourth floor and set up camp there, but oh boy, were we in for a surprise! They were nowhere to be found when we first moved in, but soon enough they made themselves right at home, declaring that they were cohabiting with us. It was like they have a personal grudge against us - back in our old house, it felt like there was a mouse assigned to each room. We managed to catch about 7 of them with traps, took out one, but the rest formed a gang. They gnawed on doors, clothes, basically anything they could get their paws on. When we moved to this new place, we thought we were finally going to live a rat-free life. But that dream was shattered pretty quickly.
I had never seen a mouse burrow under a stone placed in the bathroom to keep them out. They chewed on doors, destroyed two adapters, took over the kitchen at night, and to top it off, they terrorized us for no reason. Just yesterday, one of them decided to make itself comfortable on my daughter's pink potty. I mean, really? Do mice have color preferences now? I found myself talking to myself in disbelief. And let's not forget the wires they chewed on the stove. There was this one bold mouse that would just sit on the gas cylinder like it owned the place. Every time I opened the door at night to grab something, there they were, climbing up like little acrobats. They must be part monkey, I swear!
The scariest part was that these mice are not your average rodents. They stared you down with those unblinking eyes, fearless and unflinching. They came in different sizes, like a whole mouse family had taken up residence in my house. Once, I opened the bathroom door and there it was, the parent mouse, frozen in place. I screamed, unable to move as it tried to burrow through the stone. Minutes later, I returned, and it was still there, staring at me. I threw my shoe in a panic and ran, only to find the mouse scurrying back to its safe haven in the kitchen.
I could not wrap my head around why I should be afraid of them. They're tiny, and I could easily swat them with a broom or a shoe. Yet, every time I saw their tails, I found myself running for dear life. I steeled myself to confront the smallest one with a broom however, the idea of killing them and seeing their blood splatter on the floor made me queasy. It was messy, and I was not sure if I had the heart to do it. I just wanted them gone from my house once and for all - I did not want to be a killer of little creatures. But after a pep talk with myself, I realized there's no reason to fear them.
I could not stand crickets and anything that hops because it brings back that creepy scene from the movie 'The Mummy' where those bugs were crawling inside a guy's mouth and ears. If I saw one, 7 times out of 10 I would muster up the courage to kill it with a flip-flop, but then I would feel guilty because it wasn't bothering me. It was just doing its own thing, probably trying to find food for its family. It's like how people hate on ideas, things, and other people out of fear, even when there's no real reason to be afraid. I guess it's all about survival. This mouse had turned me into a philosopher.
Here I was, almost 2:00 am, waiting for my daughter to fall asleep so I could take her back to the bedroom while keeping an eye on the mouse. I had decided that I was going to face the mouse once and for all. I was half asleep, my eyes half-closed, but I had to stay alert because the enemy was lurking nearby. What was the best weapon to get rid of it? It was a toss-up between my flip-flops and the broom. Tonight, I would put an end to it. I kept hearing it in the kitchen, but I was too tired to move. But for the last time, I would summon my strength and checked on the mouse. If it came my way, I would either end its life or run back to the living room.