**UPDATE: I FOUND THE EXIT POINT. It was the door! STUPID MOUSE! We have this very makeshift piece of plastic over the large, gaping hole, and it was pushed back towards the outside (as if oh, say, a MOUSE wanted to get the hell out of here).

I’m hoping he made a wrong turn, saw the three of us sitting here, and said, “OH CRAP” and got his butt out of here. Fingers crossed.

And now I am furiously moving furniture and cleaning like a banshee. Nothing says “furniture must move” like a ballsy mouse.**

So I’m sitting here.

Reading the NYT, because that’s what I do.

And I see a shadow in the hallway.

Which is not my cat, since my cat is sitting next to me.

And it’s not my dog, since he’s on the other side.

Yes, seriously, people:


AN EFFING MOUSE IS IN MY HOUSE DURING THE DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I shrieked and freaked him out, and now he’s gone.

And then I called DB and told him that he had to get his butt back here (he’s not).

And now I’m blogging about it before I go on a psycho-woman rampage to find the entry point.

I haven’t had a mouse encounter since the Great Mouse Incident of June 2008.

DB thinks it’s because it’s starting to get cold, and we we working on the house all weekend.

I think it’s because the door is still open.

Either way, we have a mouse. A BALLSY MOUSE.


P.S. I sicced Little on it. He looked at me like I was nuts. Which, frankly, I am.

P.P.S. You might think that blogging is not a good idea at this moment of crisis. I’m trying to entice the thing back out here so I can see where it goes. See? Sneaky, sneaky Rachel.

Holy crap, there’s a mouse in here!!!

PPPS I knew this was a possibility, since I could hear them last night in the wall. But DB was breathing like Darth Vader, so I hit him and told him to be quieter, and he LOUDLY PROTESTED my request, so the scritch-scritching stopped and I assumed it was, like, OUTSIDE and SAFELY GONE from the protective cocoon of my house.