When you live in the Country
Little Bit goes out into the field with me sometimes. We rake up the dry grass that we've mowed, pile it up into our little pull wagons, and we use it for 'straw' for our hens. I like that it's local, and free, and she likes it because we almost always see a field mouse, sometimes even two!
They make little nesty places in the grass, here, there, everywhere. They do their best not to become hawk food, and really, with those big, dark eyes and round ears, they are kinda cute.
Little Bit knows not to touch them. She knows they are not pets, all that. She's not afraid of them in the least. She likes mice, mostly because of the cuteness.
Today we ran through the rain to the car, hopped in and headed for the bookmobile.
"There's a mouse in the car, mama." Aww...she's pretending. So I play along, asking if it's Maisy, (no), asking here where she saw it, what it was doing, all that. Imagination is important in the lives of young children, after all.
Only...after we get our books and movies from the bookmobile, I see something down in the floorboards that looks suspiciously like a....
....mouse turd.
Could there actually be an actual mouse in our car? It's a fairly new car! I mean...we never had mice in the '85 Subaru, so why would we have one in an '05 Corolla?
"Baby, when we got in the car and you said there was a mouse, was it a pretend mouse, or a real one?"
"A real one, Mama. Under the seat where your purse is."
Now, I'm not afraid of mice either, but often, especially in an enclosed space, they startle me. If I saw a mouse in the car I would say, "There's a MOUSE in the CAR!!". She said it the way you'd say, "I folded the towels," or "I rather like potatoes." Why? Because she's a little kid, and a mouse in a field, or in a car, or near the henhouse is just - a mouse.
I feel a little differently. I like my car very much. I like that it looks nice, and smells good. I do not like the idea of a mouse taking up residence, nesting in the foam, eating whatever Little Bit might have dropped in the back seat (No more Chex Mix in the car for you, missy!), and mostly, I do not like the idea of a mouse peeing in my car. I do not like it - not one bit!
I don't trust Mr. Morton to just 'get' the mouse. If I left him in the car overnight there would probably be far more mayhem, mess and destruction than I want to even think about. So, a mouse trap has been set. I would much prefer that our furry little visitor just leave through the vent (or wherever) by which he entered, but I'm not going to wait for him (Her? oh no - I hope she's not about to birth a litter of mouselets in my CAR!) to decide to go.
I just hope this is not a sign of things to come. It's not yet autumn, and the mice are already moving in? Get alert, Mr. Morton! I think you're going to have some work to do.
They make little nesty places in the grass, here, there, everywhere. They do their best not to become hawk food, and really, with those big, dark eyes and round ears, they are kinda cute.
Little Bit knows not to touch them. She knows they are not pets, all that. She's not afraid of them in the least. She likes mice, mostly because of the cuteness.
Today we ran through the rain to the car, hopped in and headed for the bookmobile.
"There's a mouse in the car, mama." Aww...she's pretending. So I play along, asking if it's Maisy, (no), asking here where she saw it, what it was doing, all that. Imagination is important in the lives of young children, after all.
Only...after we get our books and movies from the bookmobile, I see something down in the floorboards that looks suspiciously like a....
....mouse turd.
Could there actually be an actual mouse in our car? It's a fairly new car! I mean...we never had mice in the '85 Subaru, so why would we have one in an '05 Corolla?
"Baby, when we got in the car and you said there was a mouse, was it a pretend mouse, or a real one?"
"A real one, Mama. Under the seat where your purse is."
Now, I'm not afraid of mice either, but often, especially in an enclosed space, they startle me. If I saw a mouse in the car I would say, "There's a MOUSE in the CAR!!". She said it the way you'd say, "I folded the towels," or "I rather like potatoes." Why? Because she's a little kid, and a mouse in a field, or in a car, or near the henhouse is just - a mouse.
I feel a little differently. I like my car very much. I like that it looks nice, and smells good. I do not like the idea of a mouse taking up residence, nesting in the foam, eating whatever Little Bit might have dropped in the back seat (No more Chex Mix in the car for you, missy!), and mostly, I do not like the idea of a mouse peeing in my car. I do not like it - not one bit!
I don't trust Mr. Morton to just 'get' the mouse. If I left him in the car overnight there would probably be far more mayhem, mess and destruction than I want to even think about. So, a mouse trap has been set. I would much prefer that our furry little visitor just leave through the vent (or wherever) by which he entered, but I'm not going to wait for him (Her? oh no - I hope she's not about to birth a litter of mouselets in my CAR!) to decide to go.
I just hope this is not a sign of things to come. It's not yet autumn, and the mice are already moving in? Get alert, Mr. Morton! I think you're going to have some work to do.
Comments
Instead of the trap, we made a little mousie picnic basket, set it up just outside the car, then left a trail of crumbs to the feast of cheese, apples and peanut butter.
Stacey's mom will be so proud. That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it!